Servants Series 4
by ss9
Summary: Can Flora recover from the tragedies of series 3? How will Walter react and will Will be able to safely avoid the butler's wrath? And who is this glamourous Scottish beauty who is causing quite the stir amoungst the male members of staff?
1. Episode 1

Mr Jarvis sat as his desk, his big book of figures open in front of him; but Jarvis wasn't concentrating on the figures his mind was far more disagreeably engaged. So much had happened in the last few weeks that he needed time to sit and think things through properly, so far all he had been doing was reacting to situations, first the miscarriage then the business with Will's father and now this latest maddening situation with Flora. Sighing to himself he drew out his pocket watch, and softly stroked the locket of hair bound in its casement, thinking sadly this was the closest he was able to get to her at the moment. Every since loosing the baby she had become more and more withdrawn, he could understand her need to grieve but why push him away?

Didn't she realise he was in pain that their child's lose had cut him to pieces as well? The only difference was he couldn't go around with his heart on his sleeve; he wouldn't give into the weakness of character that would have him wallowing in self-pity and despair, abandoning his responsibilities. He could understand her wanting to sleep alone to some extent, in the past they normally only shared a bed after a little nocturnal activity, but he shook his head in frustration did she really think he was that unfeeling he would try something on after all this? All he wanted was the chance to hold her as she slept, safe in his arms, not dim and distant and hidden behind closed doors. It seemed to him that he was loosing her, the only times she chose to speak to him was over Taplow's business, the rest of the time she seemed to be avoiding him, throwing herself into her work and not stopping till she exhausted herself.

He had tried on numerous occasions to get her to invite him into her room for a quiet chat after dinner but she wouldn't let him in preferring to bid him goodnight at her doorway with a cold kiss on the cheek before turning and entering alone. Whenever he tried to mention anything personal, their relationship, the wedding or even the baby she clammed up and either found a way to leave the room or change the conversation. He was at his wits end, he could try and force her to talk; however rather reluctantly he realised he just didn't have the bottle to do it. He was afraid how she might react if pushed, a dim and distant Flora was better than no Flora at all; desperate for advice and with no Felix to turn to Jarvis looked over at his bureau at the half finished letter to his mother. Deciding he had put off finishing it for long enough already he got to his feet, determined to put his pride aside and ask the other woman in his life for some much needed help and advice.

Ten minutes later…….  
Jarvis is still writing at his desk '……oh my dearest mother, I am at a loss at what to do with her, she will not talk to me or even look at me most of the time, I feel as if I mean nothing to her any more…….'

Female voice rather shrill: Mr Jarvis!

Jarvis concentration is broken suddenly by a woman's voice screeching frantically in her ear. He glances up, ink splashing his writing paper, to see Mrs Diggins looming over him, hre flowery bosom far too close to his face for his liking

Jarvis more sharply than he had intended: What IS it, Mrs Diggins!

Mrs Diggins slightly taken aback: It's my Lady, Mr Jarvis, she's gone missing!

Jarvis obviously irritated, pulling off his spectacles: Missing! How on earth could she go missing, you're with her permanently, Mrs Diggins, it is a miracle if I ever see you apart from her these days!

Mrs Diggins flapping about and reminding Jarvis of an oversized distressed chicken: I only went to fill her bath, but when I returned to her room she had gone!

Jarvis sighing and rising from his chair, and moving from behind his desk: Well, she can't have gone far, she's hardly athletic!

As Jarvis makes his way to the front of the house, Mrs Diggins trots at his side desperate to keep up with his large strides, while wittering on about how Lady Mary may have exited through the front door on her way to find her (dead) husband in his carriage. Jarvis, unconvinced of this, tuts and huffs, thinking just great, this is all he needs. A mad old biddy causing trouble on one hand and a red-faced, hyperventilating lady's maid on the other. With George in mind, he has an overwhelming urge to yell at Mrs Diggins 'oh push off, shovel face!' but manages to just about contain himself as he hurries down the steps at the front of the house, Mrs Diggins breathlessly following him, calling out 'My Lady! My Lady!' in the most annoying fashion. In the midst of all this chaos, Jarvis least expects to bump into a rather portly gentleman; a little shabby around the edges in a worn brown three-piece suit and wearing a large grin on his face.

Man offering Jarvis his tubby hand and speaking in a broad Cockney accent: Mr Jeffries is the name, presume you're the butler on this fine estate.

Jarvis looking at him sourly, and not offering his hand in return: I may very well be. If you have business then you should use the side entrance.

Man raising his eyebrows, pointing to the house: Oh I don't think so, sir, I am able to go anywhere I please, including right through that there grand front door of yours – oh sorry, his Lordship's, if the mood takes me.

Jarvis gritting his teeth, puffing out his chest and sizing the man up: Is that so?

Mrs Diggins, meanwhile, is dashing up and down like a maiden in distress, calling out for Lady Mary while Jarvis completely ignores her

Man grinning again and wobbling his head from side to side: Yes that is so. I am a bailiff, sir, and whatever Earl Whatisface owns is now mine, so to speak.

Jarvis hands on hips: Well, you're not taking anything today, we need far more notice!

Man rolling his eyes in annoyance: No sir – what is your name?

Jarvis becoming impatient: Jarvis, not that it's much of your business!

Man almost drooling with delight, flexing his fingers: No, Mr Jarvis, we're not taking anything today, just come to assess all the beautiful things in this grandest of grand country houses. Well, not quite the grandest. I'd say Petworth was grander than this sir, not that that family has any need for the likes of us!

Jarvis interrupting – the man was obviously out to rub him up the wrong way: Yes, thank you, Mr Jeffries, but I will NOT permit you to use the front door! You will go round the side and mind your manners, and you will be discreet, His Lordship is rather ill at the moment and he does not need any more disturbance or upset, do I make myself clear!

Mrs Diggins trying to force her way between the two men: Mr Jarvis! I beg you!

Jarvis rather curtly: ALRIGHT Mrs Diggins, I will be with you momentarily!

Mrs Diggins panic rising in her voice: But Mr Jarvis…….!

Jarvis turning to her, completely exasperated: Mrs Diggins, as I have said, I will be with you……..

Mrs Diggins to his shock grabbing him and spinning him round, pointing over to the statue: No, look!

Jarvis, Mrs Diggins and Mr Jeffries all gasp in horror. Lady Mary is attempting to haul her small, fragile frame up the side of the statue, and they can just about hear talking in a very animated fashion to it. Jarvis, momentarily snapping out of his disbelief, shoos away Mr Jeffries, ordering him round to the side of the house to get him out of the way. Glancing at Mrs Diggins, the two of them hurry across the grass and up to Lady Mary, who has by now managed to climb part way up, waving a hand at the statue, her skirts clinging and pulling on the stonework.

Lady Mary failing to notice the two servants calling out to her, most politely, to stop: What are you doing up there, Algie? What are you doing!

Mrs Diggins turning to Jarvis, panic in her eyes: Please, get her down from there, she'll hurt herself!

Jarvis, not really knowing the best way to pull down a disorientated, aristocratic lady from clinging to a statue she assumes to be the former Earl of Taplows, sighs, telling himself that it's all in a day's work as a butler. He is of course trained in this kind of thing, or having to turn his hand to anything, rather, so with some gentle words and coaxing manages to convince the old lady that being safe and sound on the grass is most certainly the best policy. He holds his hand out, Mrs Diggins shrieking inexplicably behind him and putting him off, and Lady Mary reluctantly takes it and he lifts her light frame off the statue. Once back on solid ground, she smiles but is obviously confused. Mrs Diggins is just about to speak when her Lady squints up at Jarvis, then reaches up, and to his absolute horror begins to stroke his cheek with a soft, wrinkled hand

Lady Mary smiling again and nodding knowingly: Ahh, Algie there you are. My sweet, sweet husband. My, you ARE more handsome than I remember, and I only saw you in the ornamental garden a few minutes ago.

Jarvis, unable to speak, begins to back away slowly, glaring at Mrs Diggins to get this crazy woman away from him. But Lady Mary, completely oblivious to this, continues to chatter at him about 'their little boy' (or the current Earl, rather) and how she had to send him to his room AGAIN that morning as nanny wasn't doing her job properly, and they must consider sacking her as she is convinced the little madam has been stealing his (Algie's) finest Malt again and stashing it under her bed. As Mrs Diggins coaxed Lady Mary away from caressing Jarvis' hand, she suddenly jumped forward twenty years and managed to have an entire discussion about 'their little boy's' education without absolutely zero input from 'Algie'

Up in one of the front bedrooms, the housekeeper is looking out of the window and down on the scene below, a small smile spreading across her lips. It is the first time she has felt a hint of humour since the terrible event of a few weeks ago, and she is amused to see her fiancé waving his arms around as he tries to block Lady Mary's advances, Mrs Diggins' less-than-slight frame trying to wedge itself between the two. Her Ladyship, obviously trying to get far more frisky with Jarvis than he would ever like in her wildest, and maddest, dreams, is dragged backwards slightly by Mrs Diggins, who manages to pin her arms down and pull her away, Jarvis pacing in circles before shaking his head and storming back into the house.

Flora Ryan chuckles to herself, watching him walking distinctively across the grass, willing him to look up and see her smiling down on him. If he had have seen her, she would have waved coyly, then held his gaze long enough for him to realise that she still cares for him very much, but he doesn't even notice her there. Disappointed, her thoughts consuming her, Flora turns but gasps in shock as she sees a man standing in the doorway. Instantly she begins to shake – she doesn't recognise him, he certainly isn't a servant as she would know him, but he isn't gentry either that is for sure. Gulping and moving backwards towards the window, panic begins to rise in her chest and her eyes widen

Flora trying to catch her breath: Who are you! What do you want!

Mr Jeffries smiling politely and stepping inside the bedroom: Jeffries, madam.

But Flora's panicked state gets the better of her, and sudden flashes of a maddened Will Senior flicker across her mind as she grips the front of her dress and backs right up to the window. The bailiff, baffled by this strange woman's behaviour, approaches her and tries talking to her, but she cannot hear a word he is saying about being a bailiff and just wanting to assess the items in the house.

Flora holding one hand out in front of her, her voice trembling in fear: Get out! Get out now! I don't know you!

Jeffries shaking his head: But………….?

Flora flying into a rage and lunging forward, shoving him out of the door in terror: Out now! Please, just leave me alone!

Suddenly, as if summoned by all the commotion, Jarvis appears in the doorway and instantly realises what is happening. Stupid Jeffries wandering in and scaring the living daylights out of Flora and triggering bad memories, that's what.

Jarvis dragging Jeffries down the corridor after calming down Flora: What do you think you are doing, wandering around! I told you to be careful!

Jeffries growling and waving discourteously at Flora: She's bonkers, that woman!

Jarvis grabbing him by the collar, to his shock: You do NOT have any opinion in this house, and you will treat a lady with respect, scaring her half to death! Now do your business, Mr Jeffries, then kindly leave!

Jeffries, muttering something about being in a mad house, scurries off as Jarvis glares after him before turning on his heels and marching back to check on Flora

However Flora had not waited for Jarvis to return, instead she had taken the opportunity to escape running along the long corridor though the East Gallery and then down the main staircase, passing the rotund Mrs Diggins and her batty charge with out a word and ignoring the surprised looks from Joseph and Fred who were stationed at the foot of the stairs. She just needed some fresh air, so she dashed through the servant's quarters and out into the stable yard. Pausing for a moment to catch her breath she leant back against the wall, her arms wrapped around her as she rocked slightly, willing the fear back into the pit of her stomach where it seemed permanently to reside.

It was like this that Will, emerging from the scullery for his mid morning break, found here. At first he paused on the threshold, he hadn't spoken with Mrs Ryan since the accident, he just hadn't been able to face her. By now he had managed to convince himself that everyone else was right, that he was just as much to blame as his father. That he didn't deserve anyone's friendship and so he kept himself isolated from the others throwing himself into his work even ignoring all of Lizzie's attempts to reconcile. Resigned to the fact that he still didn't have the nerve to face her Will turned silently and went back into the scullery.

However as he was putting his apron back over his head he heard a noise and turned around. Standing in front of him was Mrs Ryan. For a moment Will couldn't speak and he just stared at her in shock, tears springing to his eyes as they locked gazes and he saw the warmth and understanding in hers, and something else, could it be forgiveness? At that Will just crumpled, dropping to the floor and hugging his legs as if he were a small child; hiding his face so that the tears which were now falling freely would be hidden. Suddenly he felt arms around him drawing into a warm embrace and he buried his head into her shoulder, sobs racking his frame as he cried for her, the lost child, his mother and himself.

Flora held Will tightly, rocking him gently in her arms, smoothing his hair back soothingly and shushing him as she would a small child. After a few minutes Will seemed to exhausted himself and it was then Flora spoke, "I never blamed you Will and you shouldn't either, these things happen, its not right and its certainly not fair but such is life."

"But he came because of me…..!" Will gasped, looking up for the first time.

"You didn't ask him to, and even if you did….you're not responsible for his actions, a child is not accountable for the sins of their parents."

"But what if Mr Jarvis is right, what if I am just like my father, I always seem to hurt the people I love……" Then Will tailed off unable to meet her gaze.

Flora grasped his chin and forced him to look at her, "he's wrong Will, you are nothing like him; I know you! Given a choice between hurting someone or taking the pain yourself, you'd always take it upon yourself."

"Can you ever forgive me?" Will asked tentatively, seizing both her hands and bowing his head over like them like a child at prayer.

Flora leant forward placing a kiss on Will's forehead, to him it was like a heavy burden had just been released from his shoulders and he wanted to laugh with the relief of it. Freeing her hands Flora ran her fingertips over Will's cheeks removing all traces of his tears before speaking once more "stop living the life of a condemned man Will, you have your entire future ahead of you, if you let this hold you back for the rest of your life then your father has won." With that she rose and made her way over to the door.

Will got to his feet and as she was about to leave called out to her, "I hope Mr Jarvis realises how lucky he is, however if you ever feel like a change?" He added raising one eyebrow suggestively; causing Flora to laugh out loud for the first time in weeks and to Will it was a wonderful sound.

"I'll bear that in mind Mr Forest, in the eventuality that he is unable to carry out his duties I may take you up on that offer!" She retorted winking cheekily and with that she swept out of the scullery leaving Will standing staring dumbfounded after her.

Meanwhile upstairs the newly promoted Mr Adams stood preening himself in front of his own mirror, in his own room which he had to share with no one else, at this thought he couldn't contain the small gleeful grin that appeared on his face. It was amazing he thought how you never realise the joys of something as simple of privacy and peace and quiet until you loose it. He couldn't remember it being so difficult the first time round, maybe that was because his memory was playing tricks on him or maybe it was because there hadn't been a footman that snored like Frederick Matkin when he was younger. The sheer range of the lad's nasal orchestry astounded Adams as he had spent many nights unable to sleep listening to the Welshman's reverberating snores echo around the small footmen's bedroom, no matter what you did you couldn't escape them, the loud long deep ones physically vibrated the air, and the short high pitched wheezes would penetrate any pillow no matter how hard you had it wrapped securely over your head.

"No more sleepless nights for me!" He expounded joyfully to his reflection as he carefully trimmed his whiskers. At least not because of snoring he added mentally a lascivious smirk replacing his smile for a second as his thoughts returned to the more pleasant task of thinking about Lady Rebecca who was far more entertaining any day than Frederick Matkin. For a few moments Adams simple stood motionless before the mirror, then the loud bong of the Grandfather clock, which stood at the entrance to the servants hall, brought him quickly out of his reverie.

Puffing out his chest he smoothed down the lapels of his Under-butler uniform, taking care to arrange his cravat so it lay central. This uniform had never suited young Mr Forest; he just wasn't man enough to do it justice. No Adams thought with a malicious grin, his new uniform of butchers apron was far more suitable, even his Lizzie seemed to have gotten over whatever she felt for the lad; he had been keeping an eye on them both and they barely spoke these days. So he turned and with one last look at himself in the mirror and a quick swipe at his hair made his way downstairs determined to show Jarvis and everyone else how a proper under-butler behaved.

Later that day as evening drew in the footmen were sitting in their room, Fred and George were powdering their wigs whilst Johnny worked on buffing up their shoes, putting into practice all those years of experience as a master shoe shiner Suddenly the door was flung open by a very panicked Joseph.

"What's the matter mate?" Fred asked, slightly worried that it might be request for someone to come and fish Lady Mary's teeth out her bedpan again.

"Carriage…….On the hillside…..Mr Adams says to come quick….."And with that he turned and dashed back out to the front of the house leaving the others to struggle into their uniforms.

A few frenzied minutes later the footmen appeared at the front door still making last minute adjustments to their appearance; Fred George swapping wigs, each having grabbed the others in the mad dash out of the footmen's room. Mr Adams stood by the door, tutting disapprovingly, himself looking immaculate his collar pressed and his suit brushed even his shoes gleamed in the fading sunlight. As the carriage drew into the driveway, the lads caught a glimpse of the occupants one of whom they recognised immediately, Lady Caroline.

Fred immediately jumped forward and opened the door, whilst Mr Adams stood on hand to relieve the new arrivals of their travelling apparel. This gave George and Joe, who stood by the main door, ample opportunity to examine the other occupant. Physically he wasn't much to look at, mousey coloured hair, a somewhat overlong nose, and tall but a little on the weedy side. Although that was hardly surprising as he was obviously wealthy he probably had never had to carry anything heavier than his cane in his whole life, and even that he handed over to Mr Adams at the earliest opportunity.

It was this stranger who insisted on assisting Lady Caroline down from the carriage, a fawning look of total and utter devotion on his face, as he ignored her grousing and moaning about the long uncomfortable trip, instead making all efforts to placate the moody little madam.

"I'm sorry my darling but we did have to make the trip…." He was unable to finish his sentence as Lady Caroline cut him off with one of her looks.

"There is no need to remind me Julian, I have a mind of my own and I can understand perfectly the need to visit my father without your help!" She snapped sarcastically back at him, the affection in their relationship was obviously a one sided affair. Suddenly her attention focused on the sniggering servants, and with a round of scathing glances she stalked passed Mr Adams and into the main body of the house, her young man following at her heels like a demented love sick puppy.

Later that evening and the house was full of gossip over Lady Caroline and her new fiancée. The maids sat huddled around the fire, their sewing lying forgotten in their laps as the task of dissecting the honourable Lord Julian Dalrimple-Sykes proved a more engaging task.

"Don't you think……." Charlotte began.

"What?" Grace queried intrigued by the normally silent maid sudden entry into the conversation.

"Well couldn't she have picked someone else, I mean…well… he's not the very image of a man, now is he?"

Her naive phrasing struck Lizzie and Grace as incredibly amusing and they both burst out laughing, earning disapproving looks from Mr Adams who was keeping a firmer grip on the lower servants conduct since his promotion. Leaning forward so the others could hear her whisper, Lizzie began. "Well you know Charlotte beggars can't be choosers, I mean everyone knows what's happening to the Earl and how her inheritance has practically disappeared, and nobody especially nobility wants to marry a pauper. It would bring such shame and disgrace on their family, not to mention the added burden of supporting the Earl and his considerable drinking habit!" She added winking maliciously, a sly grin tugging at the side of her mouth.

Suddenly their girly tête-à-tête was interrupted by the arrival of the lads, they had just spent the last few hours serving dinner, no mean feat when you are one footman short, but fortunately the food had been moderately hot upon arrival and so Will's absence had gone unnoticed by all except Lady Caroline, but she hadn't commented on this out loud, preferring to raise a querying eyebrow to George when the others were not looking.

Exhausted the lads collapsed against the table, clamouring for the beer Mr Jarvis had provided as a reward for their hard work, sighing Grace got to her feet and went and fetched it. On her return she settled herself down next to George and elbowed him gently, "Sooooooooooooooooooooooo!" She asked impatient for more gossip.

George turned to her a deadpan expression on his face, "So What? Miss May?" He replied playing dumb, preferring to have her beg him for titbits of gossip.

Realising he was toying with her Grace leant forward and brought her face to rest mere inches from his, then softly reached up and traced his jaw line with her fingertips, before grabbing his cravat and almost strangling him. "Tell Me!" She demanded, tugging playfully on his cravat.

"Alright woman, hold your horses! I presume you're talking about our house guest, the estimable, honourable, Lord Julian Dalrimple-Sykes, younger son of the Duke and Duchess of Cheshire?" He was rewarded for his stating the obvious by another sharp tug on his cravat combined with a pull on his tails.

With a slight grimace at this continued man handling George grasped both of Grace's hands before continuing, "Well what more is there to say? He's a bit of a snob but he does notice things, he commented on the small number of staff, especially the number of footmen. Moaning about how long it took to get his bags unloaded, apparently they have eight footmen at his family's country estate."

"Ohhhhhhhh," added Grace, "I bet Lady Caroline and the Earl didn't like him mentioning that, you know how touchy they are over this whole finance business."

George smiled at her, "Grace have you been listening at keyholes again." He teased.

Most indignant Grace sat up straight, her checks flushed and her trademark pout much in evidence, turning away from him slightly she retrieved her sewing and sat with her back towards him acting as if the patchwork she was finishing was the most fascinating thing in the room. Amused at first by her childishness George tried to cajole her into turning around but to no avail, deciding that if that was how she wanted it two could play at that game.

Looking around the room to make sure that Mr Adams was now no longer in sight he slid along the bench and seized Grace's sewing out of her hands. Standing up he held the patchwork aloft taunting the shorter maid by lowering it just enough so that if she jumped she could retrieve it before raising it out of her reach. Frustrated and now very hot and bothered Grace decided on a simpler method, albeit a rather more painful one for George Cosmo, and stamped down hard on his left foot causing George to yelp in pain and drop her sewing. For a moment Grace stood there amused content to simple watch George hop helplessly, grasping his now throbbing foot in his hands but after a while she relented and assisted him into a chair. At first George just glared at her as he massaged his damaged toes, but he couldn't remain angry at her for long not when she continued to fuss over him like she was doing.

"So what did they say?" Grace asked.

"What did who say?" George replied confused, the pain from his foot diverting his attention from their previous conversation.

"The Earl and Lady Caroline, how did they react to Lord Julian's remark?"

"Well the Earl didn't say much he sort of mumbled something incoherent, but Lady Caroline got all uppity and upset and practically bit the upper-class twits head off. She made it quite clear that they normally have another footman but for some reason he wasn't present tonight, but he would be back tomorrow."

"Ohh, how is Jarvis going to react to that?" Grace asked shocked.

Shrugging his shoulders George sighed, "don't ask me love, but I wouldn't like to be in Will's shoes when he does!"

Over in Jarvis's office the butler sat at his desk his new book of figures open in front of him, it's pages clear and waiting to be filled however Jarvis sat there poised pen in hand. It wasn't as easy as he thought it would be, a new book signifies a new chapter in the life of a butler. However as he glanced over at the shelf where the old one lay he has an overwhelming urge to go and open it and leaf through it's reassuringly full pages. As he stared at the blank page in front of him, he wondered whether this bleak expanse was all he had to look forward to now. He had resisted starting a new book before because there had seemed to be little point, Flora and he would have been leaving Taplows in a matter of a few short weeks as by that stage in her pregnancy it would have been obvious to all. However now who knows how long they would be here, Flora was unwilling to discuss the wedding, yet Jarvis had stubbornly refused to cancel the church. In his heart he hoped against hope that she would come around before then and that in a matter of weeks she would be Mrs Corey as planned.

Sighing to himself Walter pushed the book away from him and getting up from his desk wandered over to wall cabinet, removing a bottle of brandy and a glass, pausing for a moment to count the bottles in confusion, he hadn't drunk that many? He could have sworn there was at least fifteen when they got back from Italy, and he had only drank three in a little over a year, so where had the other eight gone. Growling to himself his thoughts drifted between two possible culprits, Mr Adams and William Forest, they are the only two stupid enough to think that they could get away with stealing from me! Although he knew from personal experience that Adam's was more of a whiskey man, the Earls single malt to be more precise, so that left Forest.

A malicious grin spread onto Walter's face, theft now there was something he could sack the little monster over if only he could prove it. Maybe after Will had gone, and all connections to that incident were removed Flora would start to come around, it couldn't be easy for her having to face the possibility of coming face to face with that little toe rag every day. So in a way he'd be doing it not to punish Forest, although he rightly deserved it, but to help his beloved Flora, he tried to convince himself. However in the depths of his soul, there was a little part of him that spoke out in a clear voice that could not be extinguished, you're not doing it for Flora you're doing it for yourself. Pushing it to one side Walter concentrated on ways of catching out his crafty thief, it was thus engaged that his thoughts were interrupted by a short sharp tap on the door.

Waving for the person to enter Jarvis paid little attention to who it was until they slammed the book shut on his desk. Shaken from his thoughts he glanced up and saw a stern Flora staring down at him. Suddenly he got to his feet, delighted that she had actual sought out his company, but before he could exclaim his delight Flora cut him off.

"Mr Jarvis what do you mean by drinking on duty?"

Astounded and more than a little hurt Walter picked up his brandy glass and downed the remainder before pouring himself another, "I do believe that is my business Mrs Ryan, after all the Earl has himself retired, you are more than welcome to join me." He replied indicating the opposite chair as he sat back down in his. However as Flora made her way over to it Jarvis gave into one of his spontaneous ideas and seized her round the waist drawing her onto his lap. At first she struggled but Jarvis held on to her, determined not to let her get away as this was the closest he'd been to her in weeks.

"Walter for god sake let me go!" She exclaimed.

"I thought I told you before I never have any intention of doing so!" He replied pulling her closer.

Realising the futility of further struggling, Flora relaxed allowing Walter to hold her in his arms before finally giving in and resting her head on his shoulder. Jarvis now convinced that she was not going to get up and run away, released his tight grip on her, leaving one hand resting on her waist but allowing the other to rub up and down her back. "I've missed you." He whispered into her hair, allowing himself to place a row of kisses along her forehead.

For a few moments they sat in silence simply enjoying being in each others company, Walter wanting desperately to talk to her about so many things but afraid to begin just in case she ran away. Instead he decided on a safer topic of conversation. "So Flora what was it you wanted to talk about? The upcoming nuptials?"

At this Flora sat up sharply a look of panic on her face, and Walter realised what his question had sounded like to her, "I meant that of Lady Caroline and Lord Sykes, after all it will be held here which means a lot of organising for us to do…." He added quickly, desperate not to loose her now she was here.

"No actually…..Walter we need to talk." Jarvis smiled at that, finally this was what he had been waiting for, however her next words knocked the wind right out of his sails.

"About Will."

"What about him?" Jarvis asked his voice becoming icy.

"You can't go on punishing him like this it's not his fault…."

"Not HIS fault! How can you of all people say that? He helped murder our child!"

"No he didn't! He had nothing to do with it Walter, he's just as much a victim here as you or I were."

"Him a VICTIM!" Jarvis bellowed getting to his feet and dislodging Flora, who stumbled at first before regaining her balance. "William Forest is no victim, he's a thieving, lying, philandering wastrel….."

"No he isn't he's just a boy!" Flora pleaded with him, seizing his arm.

Walter shook her off, "No he's not he's a grown man, capable of fighting his own battles, he shouldn't need to hide behind a woman's petticoats. Especially not those of a certain woman whose petticoats he's been anxious to get into ever since he arrived!"

Shocked and disgusted that Walter could be so crude Flora backed away, but Jarvis followed her. "So tell me Flora why are you so anxious to defend him? Is there something going on here that you're not telling me?" Mutely Flora shook her head.

"Really? You see I find it difficult to believe that you'd defend any of the other footmen so vigorously if their positions were reversed, you seem to have quite the soft spot for the young Mr Forest.."

"Walter don't be ridiculous, there is nothing going on just like there was nothing going on between me and Felix or me and anyone else for that matter…."

Slightly calmer Jarvis shook his head, she was right he was being absurd he just found it difficult to reconcile the idea of a woman having platonic male friends especially when he happened to know for sure that man had a rather large crush on her.

"Just give me your word that nothing improper has ever happened between you, nothing at all!" He asked glancing up at her, expecting an immediate acknowledgement.

Flora stood there like a rabbit in the lamplight, all she had to do was lie, after all it was only a kiss, Walter never needed to know; but could she lie to him?

"Flora?" Jarvis growled, closing the distance between them rapidly when she didn't immediately answer, grasping her roughly by the shoulders and shaking her. "What did he do?" The images of them together, laughing at Jarvis behind his back filled his mind.

"Nothing, Walter it was nothing really, just a kiss and it was ages ago before we got back together when I was going to marry Felix!"

Furious Jarvis barely restrained himself, he turned from her quickly and vented his anger on his desk, flinging the items on top one by one at the opposite wall before picking up the desk and turning it over. Finally exhausted he slumped down in his fireside chair, his back to the terrified Flora who was curled up in a ball in the corner.

"So I suppose that Kiss doesn't count in your mind? I mean after all it was only poor Felix you were officially cheating on!" Jarvis expounded sarcastically. "That is of course if it did stop there?"

Slowly Flora raised herself up off the floor, "Of course it did!"

"Well why should I believe you, after all by the time we got back together how I am I supposed to know that you weren't even third handed by then? Hmmmm, tell me was it so very different with a much younger man, I'm sure what he was lacking in experience he made up for in enthusiasm and stamina?" He turned and glared at Flora, who by now was shaking with fury.

"How dare you!" She hissed. "How dare you of all people have the nerve to sit there and lecture me? You ask me how you can believe me? Well I'll tell you Walter Corey I don't lie. If I did wouldn't it have been easier to just swear nothing had ever happened, besides I don't think you're one can question my fidelity not after I caught you in your nightshirt coming out of another woman's bedroom." At this she turned and walked towards the door only adding, "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones." Before she opened the door and left Jarvis alone with his thoughts.

The following morning, Jarvis was in no lighter frame of mind, his mood was as black as the midnight sky after spending what seemed like the entire night awake, tossing and turning. He wouldn't have minded that one bit had Flora been next to him, even though she'd be there scolding him for being so restless, at least she would have put her arms around him to hold him still. The thought of such bliss only in the past tense was really getting to Walter now, especially after their embrace the previous evening, when he allowed himself to hope that things were at last beginning to get back on track. He dared not recall any further their conversation, as once he remembered her revelation regarding the much loathed Will Forrest, he could not stop himself from trembling with revulsion.

Whilst he could not fault her for her honesty, he wished to god he had never pursued his line of enquiry, after all, he only did so as he was so secure in the knowledge that she would refute his claims, but when this turned out to be a spectacular misjudgement on his part, he was shell shocked to say the least. When she had left him, it had all painfully sunk in deeper. With Felix it had just been an irrational jealousy, he had not once seriously thought that he and Flora were involved, as there was no indication of any physical attraction between them. But to learn of a kiss, a KISS between her and the former first footman, this … well this was something else.

At the breakfast table, whereas he would normally not take his eyes off of the housekeeper, that morning he just sat, stirring his tea aimlessly, until it went cold, shuffling his slice of toast back and forth across his plate. That morning, he couldn't bear to look at her exquisitely moulded lips, for the image of them locked with the youngster's was far too much for him to stomach. The same image had been imprinted in his mind for the past ten hours, just when he had managed to shift it, another wave of jealousy would overcome him, bringing it back in full Technicolor, each time getting more vivid and equally sordid.

Currently, he was sat, at the head of the upper servants table as usual, but unusually devoid of all manners, as his hands were clasped, both elbows on the table as he leaned on his knuckles, staring into space. He was suddenly jolted awake by a hand gently squeezing his shoulder. After blinking, he could see that he was the only one left at the table, and noticed the time as almost half eight on the mantle clock. He looked up and over his right shoulder, to see Flora standing above him, her head titled, she was obviously trying to engage his stare. She managed this for no more than a second before he looked straight forward, breathing in, as he drew himself up to his full (seated) height, before asking her in a rather clinical tone of voice, "And what can I do for you Mrs Ryan?"

"Walter, his lordship has had to send for you, he expected you in his study ten minutes ago." she informed him.

"Always the bringer of bad tidings aren't we my dear?" he said with a sarcastic grin on his face as he rose out of his chair, turning to face her.

At this Flora looked down at the ground, unwilling to give into his taunts, biting her top lip, then taking a deep breath in before raising her head to look him in the eye. "He's most insistent you go forthwith, haven't you heard him ringing?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't much more pressing things on my mind at the moment, but lets not go into them eh?" he retorted initially light heartedly, but getting more spiteful towards the end, brushing past her on his way towards the door.

Her reflexes as sharp as ever, Flora seized his hand, anchoring him to the spot, causing him to swing round sharply. "Please Walter, we need to talk."

"Really? I think you said enough for the both of us last night. But, if you can tear yourself away from the subject of master Forrest for long enough, I'm sure whatever it is can keep." he said defiantly, his eyes fixed determinedly on hers.

This received a rather tearful look from the housekeeper, one which pained him to see, prompting him to squeeze her hand gently, softly rubbing it with his thumb, his eyes flickering back and forth between hers, willing a tear not to drop, out of fear that his whole angry stance with her would be lost, and she would have got round him once more. After a few moments, this time he did hear the Earl's bell ringing, at which he turned on his heels and marched up to the study, feeling marginally better than he had done at breakfast.

However, shortly after entering the study, his more positive frame of mind was crushed. Once again he had intruded on another father-daughter squabble between the Earl and Lady Caroline. Although he could tell they had been having words for sometime before his arrival, it was not yet resolved, and spilled over into Jarvis' morning lecture.

"Jarvis, where the devil have you been?" the Earl scoffed in a somewhat gruffer tone of voice than usual.

"I, I'm sorry your Grace, there was a slight staffing problem…." Jarvis started

"Your damned right there is man, I'm told we've lost a footman - why wasn't I informed of this? By gum, I know I never authorised it!"

"Well, um…." Jarvis had no idea what to say, in all honesty he never thought the Earl would have actually noticed.

"Well, spit it out man, where is the fourth!" the Earl demanded.

As Jarvis sought for the words to tell him about the whole Will situation (well, not the actual Will situation, a fabricated one), Lady Caroline chirped up "Well I don't know how we manage to get by with just the four anyway! In London, its quite unheard of to have under 6, oh really Daddy, must we appear so destitute!"

"We have been through this" the Earl seethed, glaring at his spoilt daughter, obviously having been over (and probably over) this before "You know we simply do not have the means to take on extra staff, that's why I employ Jarvis here in order to best utilise those we have." At this, Lady Caroline lifted up her skirts and stormed out, while the Earl turned back to Jarvis who had just about got his story straight "Though possibly not for much longer if he persists to dilly-dally!"

"My Lord, Mr William Forrest is currently undergoing a disciplinary procedure, and consequently has been withdrawn from all duties as footman until further notice" he stated informatively with some satisfaction.

"Disciplinary proceedings? What on earth does he need disciplining for?" The Earl obviously wanted to get to the bottom of this, throwing Jarvis off guard once more with this probing question.

"He, he …"

"This isn't a laughing matter Jarvis!" The Earl barked, less than amused at the butler's feeble attempt.

"A few weeks ago, he got into a scuffle with a few of the locals, he came off worse, but was entirely to blame by all accounts, and I have sought to make him see the error of his ways, Sir." Good recovery, he thought to himself.

"I don't care if he's roughed up Prince Albert himself, that boy will be back at his full duties by lunchtime, do you hear me?" The Earl declared, laying down the law.

"But Sir, he has to be-"

"Nonsense, a good hiding will have taught him all he needed to learn."

"But Sir!" Jarvis could hardly believe what the Earl was asking him to do.

"But Sir nothing! I employ four footmen Jarvis, and since only three are being paid, I have a good mind to withdraw the wages of the forth! But, as my daughter and her esteemed fiancé have observed, we are indeed in need of all the footmen we can afford, so you WILL reinstate this Mr Forrest, and you will be held personally responsible for ensuring that he make no further trouble for himself - do you understand?"

At this, Walter just stood there, looking down at the paisley carpet, clenching his fists and breathing heavily. He did manage to muster a "Yes Sir", however, this went unheard by the old man, who bellowed "Look at me when I'm talking to you - do you understand!"

"YES SIR!" came Jarvis' reply as his head darted up, looking the Earl straight in the eye. His reply came with such conviction, that he may as well have been a Corporal, answering his Sergeant Major. Indeed, the Earl was rather taken aback at the forcefulness of the reply, so Jarvis decided to venture it a third time, at a lower pitch, as he slowly backed out of the room after giving a most courteous bow.

Half an hour later, the butler is back in his office, glaring menacingly at his empty book of figures in the furthest left hand corner of his desk, his feet resting upon it (uncaring about the new leather patch he had just had recovered), top button undone, half empty glass of brandy gently swaying in his right hand. He'd stormed back downstairs after his meeting with the Earl, clashing with Johnny on the central servants staircase, the poor boy dropping the entire tea tray he was just about to take to Lord Julian.

Surprisingly, Jarvis didn't seem to give two hoots about that, just yelling at him to go and fetch that 'dastard' Will Forrest on his way back. For a second the hapless footman looked at his superior in amazement, having mistaken the word dastard for something else. This ignorance did annoy Jarvis however, who then poked and prodded Johnny all the way down to the end of the corridor (once he'd cleared up the debris naturally).

Placing the now empty brandy glass back down onto the desk, he leant back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left thumb and forefinger. He looked at his watch - ten to nine - ten to bloody nine and he'd already polished off a large brandy, the strain of the day already taking its toll when it had hardly started. He knew he shouldn't, but he felt he needed a drink if he was to get through this next meeting intact.

He was absolutely livid that his decision to punish Will had be overruled by the Earl, so it was totally out of his hands. Even Flora had not been able to subdue his abhorrence of Will, quite the opposite in the end. He was damned if he was going to allow her to think for even a second that her feeble pleas had got him to change his mind, so resolved that once the deed was done, he would make it clear to her, and then the entire staff that he had not relinquished willingly, after he had informed Will of that first of course.

At that resolve, he heard a tap on the door, after hiding the brandy glass, and with a heavy heart, rising from his chair slightly, he sighed "enter".

He slumped back down in his chair as if in a sulk when it was Johnny who poked his head around the door frame. "I thought I told you to go and get Will Forrest!" he hollered, just wanting to get it over and done with now.

"I'm sorry Mr Jarvis Sir, but Mr Finch says he'll be a few minutes, he's just trawling the bottom of the pond at the moment, apparently Lady Mary dropped a piece of jewellery in there which she just cant do without - Mr Finch has sent one of the chimney boys to fetch him."

"Yes, yes, that will do!" Jarvis insisted, waving Johnny out of the door.

For a moment or two, Jarvis put his legs back up on the table and considered pouring another glass of brandy, to help get the Dutch courage back that the unexpected appearance of Johnny had just knocked out of him. However, on second thoughts, he decided that if he were to go and pay Flora a visit, he didn't want her catching him with brandy on his breath at such an hour …. Not that she'd get that close though, he said to himself dejectedly.

It was in this subdued manner that Will found the butler on entering his office, where he had anticipated, (and got) a somewhat frosty reception. As Will stood in front of his desk, Walter sat still, looking up at him, though Will did not return the stare. Surprisingly, Jarvis had a rather smug grin on his face, as Will was dripping wet, covered in the dirtiest and most foul smelling water imaginable - and to think, Jarvis had been complaining that the men hadn't turned up for its annual drainage and renewal!

Jarvis tried to picture it, but the only image he could form was that of the kiss he stole from Flora, the thought of which immediately brought him back to his threatening thoughts. Finally, he found the words to speak. "So, Mr Finch keeping you busy is he?" he mused.

"Well yes Mr. Jarvis I-"

"Oh spare me." Jarvis cut him off. "Now Forrest, first and foremost, you are only here because of a decree made by his lordship, if I'd had my way, you'd be scouring that cesspool of a pond for all eternity - are we clear?"

"Yes"

"Yes what?" Jarvis ordered, exaggeratedly raising his right hand to his ear, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes Mr Jarvis Sir" Will in a heavy tone of voice.

"That is better!" Jarvis said patronisingly, walking from behind his desk, looking Will up and down. "Now, on his lordships request, you have been raised from your lowly rank, back to footman-"

There Jarvis stopped, Will, who kept his head and stare strictly facing front, had made the catastrophic error of letting the butler see the smile on his face, at being reunited with the other junior servants. However, Jarvis interpreted this as not a smile, but a smirk, and a personal insult to him to boot. Consequently, he stalked back behind his desk, having gone full circle, and leant on it with both hands.

"But don't think your back to First Footman, oh no, not even second, third or fourth for that matter! His lordship did not take it upon himself to assign you a rank, that, now that is left up to me."

At this, Will gulped and for the first time since he was demoted, looked Jarvis straight in the eye as he continued "You sunshine, will be the lowest of the low, if I could jog the books to hire your replacement, I would do so in a instant, but the fact remains that as we are at full stretch as it is, so you will have to do."

At such a put down, Will broke the staring contest, looking out through the glass windows in disapproval, asking in a ungrateful tone of voice "Is that all Mr Jarvis, SIR?"

"Not quite Mr Forrest, not quite" Jarvis teased, his mouth curled up at the corners, but on the inside, he was cringing, this was the part he least looked forward to, but he knew damned well it had to be done. He didn't want to give Will the satisfaction of learning that he knew of the kiss he shared with Flora, but had to warn him off all the same. "I don't know what yarn you've spun my fiancé, but your riddles won't fool me - the fact of the matter is, that animal was here because of you, and be it directly or indirectly, because of you, I have lost my child, Mrs Ryan has lost … her … child" he said, slowing his pace as he went, intending to hammer them home to the person he still regarded as ultimately responsible. "She seems to have got it into her head, or rather you've planted it in her head, that your one of the good guys, a lost soul, but I'm far from convinced. The only thing I'm sure of is you're going to stay away from her, away from both of us, because I for one can't stand the sight of you!" he hissed.

Will just stood there, grinding his teeth, breathing heavily and shooting a deadly cold stare at Jarvis, who returned this himself, creating an atmosphere you could cut with an axe. Will thought to himself, he knew who had the brains as well as the looks in their relationship, it certainly wasn't this idiot if he still couldn't see the fact that consciously, he had nothing to do with his loss, but felt its repercussions as much as they did.

"That was your cue to go by the way" Jarvis said in a unnervingly calm tone, sitting back down in his chair, opening his book. But as Will approached the door, he continued "Don't expect your colleagues to give you any warmer a welcome, except that poor misguided soul George Cosmo, after all, they do say there's great honour amongst thieves!"

"Thieves, we're no bloody thieves?" Will protested.

"That may well be so … Its just an expression Mr Forrest, don't look so worried"

Jarvis now spoke in a most friendly voice, which unsettled Will further, so he once again turned, heading for the door, with a courteous "Sir"

Just as Will turned the handle, Jarvis called out "Oh, one last thing, do you enjoy a glass of brandy now and again?"

Looking over his shoulder in complete confusion - was he even offering him a drink now? - replying in his thick Yorkshire accent "Brandy? Nah, can't stand the stuff sorry, Sir"

"Very well" Jarvis said excessively sarcastically, with a nod, as Will was finally able to get through the door.

When it was closed, Jarvis threw the book to be filled with figures down on the table, rose from his chair and paced up and down a few dozen times in front of his fire place. 'Damn' he cursed to himself, thumping his fist down on the mantle, he was sure that he'd get the young troublemaker with that last question. In that case, 'just where had the brandy got to?' he puzzled, resisting the urge to scratch his head, electing instead to gently pat the little balding patch on top of his head. He was convinced it had been stress induced, and had grown larger these past few weeks, especially in the absence of Flora planting a kiss there, assuring him that it greatly added to his character. With that thought, after tugging his waistcoat down to straighten it, he left his room to survey his employees, before seeking out Flora, to carry out a more personal study.

An hour later and the whole staff had been called together in the Lower Servants hall for an impromptu staff meeting. Will delighted to be back in livery, stood at the back of the room as many of the other junior servants were still ignoring him, and sensibly he had no desire to feel the full force of Jarvis's fury twice in one morning. After a few minutes in walked the senior staff, Jarvis striding in first, followed enthusiastically by Mr Adams and then at a more sedate pace Mrs Ryan. As she entered the room her eyes flickered over the assembled staff, for a moment they locked with Will's and she gave him a small smile of encouragement, which he returned gratefully, before her mask of authority once more descended.

"Settle down!" Jarvis barked his bad mood from the morning now evident to all and the staff quietened immediately. "Now I have quite a few items to get through and we don't have all day! Firstly we will be gaining a few new members of staff as certain members of Lord Julian's household will be joining us for the duration of his stay at Taplows. I expect you all to extend to them all the courtesy we show to all our guests, despite our troubles we still have standards and I will not have the name of Taplows further disgraced, if I hear anything of the sort it will be my pleasure to throw the perpetrator out on their ear without a warning or reference!" At this Jarvis paused his eyes scanning over the assembled faces until he locked glances with Will and then he smiled maliciously, "a pleasure, believe me…. We have no room here for idleness or troublemakers!" 

"Sir?"

"Yes Mr Matkin."

"Well I was wondering, these new servants when will they be arriving?"

"According to his lordship, Lord Julian's personal valet will be arriving this evening, the other staff, coachmen and stable hands will arrive in the next few days….." At this point Jarvis stopped dead a look of total bewilderment on his face. Surprised at this sudden silence the rest of the staff looked about bemused, and Mrs Ryan walked over to the Butler to check he was all right. Nodding furiously Jarvis glanced down at his notebook, by try as he might he had lost his thread and his attention kept being caught by the bizarre occurrences going on in the servants courtyard. Turning to Flora he shoved his notes into her hands and indicated for her to continue whilst he himself investigated.

Leaving the rest of the staff inside Jarvis made his way out of the side door and out into the yard, the need to confirm what he had seen pressed heavily on him. As soon as he opened the door he was met by the most bizarre of sights. Lord Julian's behind! The head and shoulders of the aristocrat could not be seen, probably because they were located down the well. Curious and slightly nervous Jarvis strode over, unwilling to shout and possibly scare his lordship into toppling over, he chose to stand a good foot away and cough politely. For a good few minutes he had no response, however just as he was about to cough again, Lord Julian suddenly withdrew his head and began to make furious notes. At first he seemed oblivious of Jarvis's presence, but when he had finished his notes he looked up and acknowledged the butler. "Ahh Jasper just the person I was looking for!"

"It's Jarvis Sir, how can I be of assistance, have you lost something?"

Julian shook his head and waved away Jarvis's comments dismissively, "No No nothing like that, I need to have access to all the machinery currently employed here at Talpows, automatic spits and the like. Would you be a good fellow and show me around? This place is like a rabbit warren, I got lost three times trying to get down here from the main house."

For a moment Jarvis paused, who the hell did this loony lord think he was a tour guide? As butler he was far too busy to spend his day leading him around by the hand just so he didn't get lost and end up in the cess pit. "Of course Sir, I would be delighted to find someone to show you everything you wish to see." For a moment he considered assigning such an onerous task to Mr Forest, however he quickly realised that the potential negative side affects of this, such as Julian leaving Taplows and never returning, would possibly just outweigh the tremendous personal satisfaction he would feel. He would just have to find some other person to do the job.

Jarvis stalked back into the main hall Lord Julian scampering behind him, eager and excited like a child on Christmas Eve, especially when he saw the giant fireplace and bellows which he dashed over to scribbling furiously in his notebook, ignorant of the looks he was receiving from the servants scattered around him. Jarvis left him there striding through the hallways looking for Mr Adams. As he passed Flora's office door he heard Adam's voice and he quickly opened the door wider and marched through.

"Ahhhhh Mr Adams there you are! I have a task of the utmost importance for you." Jarvis said sarcastically with a small sly grin.

"Yes Sir!" Adams replied enthusiastically practically jumping to attention, causing Jarvis to step back in surprise.

"Calm down man, I haven't told you what it is yet!" At this Jarvis shot a quick glance over to Flora who was standing behind her desk her hand over her mouth suppressing a quiet giggle, Jarvis raised his eyebrow and winked conspiratorially at her.

"Lord Julian requires your assistance in the lower servants' hall. Please extend to him every assistance, but for god's sake get him out of here! The last thing we need is one of them underfoot all day!" He added looking disdainfully up at the ceiling, scowling at the space where he imagined the Earl would be.

"Yes Sir right away Sir!" Adams barked back and practically ran out of the door anxious to make a good impression on the new arrival.

For a moment no one spoke, they both stared at the closed door where a few seconds ago Andrew Adams had been, before bursting out into laughter. Jarvis staggered over to the desk, almost bent double with laughter and threw himself down into the chair, Flora giggling madly leant back against the desk for support.

"Who would have thought it possible?…." She gasped.

Jarvis smiled broadly and rubbed the bridge of his nose distractedly, "I know, I know….I'm convinced something is going on with him we are unaware of…."

"What like divine intervention? Flora asked still wheezing slightly.

Jarvis shook his head slightly, "I was thinking more along the lines of an impostor!"

"He could just be trying to impress you…." She countered quickly.

"Me! He's never bothered about what I think before…..But you may be right, maybe he is trying to impress, but somehow I doubt it's me."

"Who then, the Earl?"

Jarvis shook his head, his brow drawn in concentration, "No, somehow I think there's a woman involved!" Then Jarvis raised his gaze to look at Flora, and teasingly he asked, "You don't have any more admirers I should be aware of?"

"Walter Corey!" Flora exclaimed, her cheeks flaming, and she punched him playfully on the arm.

Jarvis caught hold of her wrist and drew her closer. "Well if you do start finding strange presents left outside your door, bunches of thistles or a pound or two of haggis don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Walter be serious!" Flora replied, resisting his efforts to pull her onto his lap.

"Well then who else could it be?" Jarvis asked standing up slowly, his other hand sneaking round her waist. "One of your maids?"

"Or Mrs Diggins?" Flora replied, her giggles returning in full force.

Jarvis frowned slightly as if in the effort of thinking hard. "Mrs Diggins, well I suppose so, stranger things have happened. Do you think I should have a quiet word with the lady in question? Warn her to be on her guard around Scottish Casanovas!"

Flora snorted and her giggles became higher and higher pitched as she struggled for breath, resorting to poking Walter in the stomach instead of replying.

"Ow!" He exclaimed after a particular sharp and well-placed prod, seizing her wrists to protect himself from further injury. "So you want to play rough?" He asked raising his eyebrow mischievously.

Flora's giggles stopped as she saw the look on his face and she tried to back away, but for every move she made he mirrored her until they were both backed up against the desk. Flora looked around for an opportunity to escape and spied her smaller book of figures lying open on her desk, seizing this firmly she threw it in Walter's direction, intending to distract rather than injure him. The book itself did miss the Butler, however the inkwell, which had sat on the open book, hit him plum on the chest, the purplely blue liquid spilling down his shirt and staining his waistcoat as it went.

For a moment both just stared in shock. Then they sprang into action at the same time, Flora grabbing a spare handkerchief and Walter stripping off the offending items before more damage could be sustained. As soon as he was down to his vest she seized the stained clothing and went to work with her handkerchief and a glass of water. Shivering slightly in only his vest Jarvis bent down and picked up the offending inkwell, the remaining ink now staining his fingers and as he stood up a plan for revenge formed in his mind.

It was as Flora leant over the table trying furiously to remove the stain, Walter walked up behind her and dipping his fingers in the ink streaked them down her nose and across her cheekbones. Outraged Flora turned round, her beautiful face now streaked like a Native American's, and she reached for the inkwell. Jarvis laughing, held it just out of her reach and backed away taunting, however a determined Flora tripped him up, pushing him down backwards on to the floor before seizing the inkwell and streaking his face as well.

"Stop it you harridan!" Jarvis bellowed, secretly delighted that Flora had broken free from her melancholy. Pulling her close he rolled them both over so that he could pin her down and have his hands free to cover her in yet more ink. Flora giggled madly and squealed as he drew purplely lies across her forehead and down her neck, retaliating by smearing the last of the ink across his face and into his hair.

Pausing for a moment Walter looked deeply into her eyes, raising a hand and brushing his fingers softly down her cheek. Their gazes locked, her eyes pulling him down like magnets and he leant down placing a soft almost hesitant kiss on her lips. Withdrawing slightly Walter rubbed his nose playfully against hers, placing inky kisses on the tip of her nose and then along her jaw-line before nuzzling under her ear.

Suddenly the door slammed open and the pair were disturbed by a high-pitched screaming. Jarvis still clad only in his vest jumped quickly to his feet before reaching down and assisting Flora to her feet.

"Algernon! How Could you? You promised me!" Lady Mary screamed at the bemused butler.

"Lady Mary…." Jarvis tried to calm the distressed aristocrat, but he's pleas were cut off.

"Oh don't you dare try and weasel out of this one! I've caught you red handed this time and with your shirt off, rolling around the floor with one of the servants! It was bad enough last time when it was Lady Wympole! And after you promised me so faithfully! That's it I warned you last time, and this time I mean to go through with it, I'm leaving you and I'm taking the baby with me!" With that parting shot she turned and hitching her skirts ran sobbing back to her room, leaving two very stunned and worried servants behind.

Later that day as the evening mists were rolling off the hillside and down towards Taplows, one of the footmen stood in the drizzle shivering. Winter was following closely on the heels of autumn and in an effort to escape the dampness and biting wind Will pulled his thin jacket further around him. Blowing on his numb hands he resigned himself to finishing his task and shovelled another load on manure into his already heavy-laden wheelbarrow. Finally it was full enough to satisfy even the sadistic Andrew Adams. Under his breath Will cursed the under-butler with the foulest of names, kicking a small rock towards a tree taking great delight in imagining it was Adams's face he was smashing. After a few moments of envisioning all the nasty things he wished he could do to his superior, Will shook himself out of his stupor, wiping the rain off of his face and bending down to seize the barrow and wheel it back to the house.

He was heading down the hill when suddenly he heard voices and the crack of a whip; pausing for a moment he looked back over his shoulder and saw the carriage approach. Realising that this must be the new Valet Will wandered over to the edge of the road and waited, realising that this first glimpse of the new staff might well be his ticket to acceptance by many of the other servants. As the carriage began its descent of the hill the driver reined in the horses to a medium trot, therefore as it passed Will was able to get a good look at the occupants. There was one man in the far corner; one who caught Will's eye and smirking tipped his hat in mockery of a greeting. Stunned Will stood for a second, unable to believe what his eyes had seen, him! Turning on his heel Will ran down the hill as fast as he could, consumed by one thought alone he abandoned his wheelbarrow, he had to warn them.

Meanwhile at the house, the Upper servants were gathering for dinner. A now clean Jarvis stood at the head of the table, knife in hand about to carve the joint, his beloved Flora sat next to him studiously ignoring the amused glances the rest of the staff were sending them. The news of Lady Mary's unexpected visit had managed to circulate amongst the household and so had the manner in which she had found the two most senior of the household staff. Both Butler and Housekeeper had had all afternoon to perfect the skill of turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to sniggers and giggles.

Fortunately most people seemed to find it amusing and so had no intention of ratting them out their superiors, many were just pleased that things seemed to be getting back to normal between the pair. All except Mrs Diggins who was sending them daggers, after all she had had to spend all afternoon trying to dissuade the distraught Lady Mary from taking the Earl and leaving Taplows. Finally the batty old dear had been persuaded to sleep on the matter and had been settled down with a warm glass of milk and an assurance that Algenon would keep his distance for the remainder of the evening.

Jarvis was for the most part oblivious to all this, despite all the bizarre occurrences that were going on around him, the matriarch of the family thinking he was her philandering husband and Mr Adams out of character good behaviour, he was just relieved that for the first time since the accident Flora was sitting next to him at dinner. As he carved the beef he had to resist the urge to just stand there and grin stupidly at her like some lovesick schoolboy. Even the meat he was carving brought a smile to his face, it was his favourite and for once he knew it was not a coincidence as he had overheard Flora earlier specifically instructing Cook to prepare it.

However as Jarvis passed the last of the joint around and sat down to say grace, the door to the Upper servants dining room swung open. Everyone's head shot upwards to glare at the intruder, whose face was at first concealed in the shadows. Stepping into the room, the stranger bowed removing his top hat with a flourish, and for the first time revealing his identity to all the diners. For a good few seconds no one spoke as they stared in shock at the new arrival who was familiar to them all, then suddenly a very angry Jarvis shot to his feet, "What in blue blazes are you doing here?"

An extremely red faced and completely out of breath Will Forrest burst through the lower servants dining room door. He flung it so wide open that on impact with the adjacent wall, it managed to splinter right down the centre of one panel. At this, all the diners let out a gasp and in a reflex action, rapidly turned their heads towards the commotion. On seeing it was Will, Mr Adams leapt out of his chair, and after momentarily choking on his chicken leg, simply gave Will a deathly stare. However, much to his annoyance, the newly-promoted footman (or demoted, whichever way you wish to look at it) was not fazed by this, but largely due to the fact he did not witness it.

He was currently hanging off the door knob, doubled over, his head hung between his arms, desperately trying to take in some much needed oxygen. Adams being Adams, saw this as insolence, so tore his tucked in napkin from his shirt, before storming over to Will, grabbing him by his hair, dragging his head up, whilst bombing "Well, at least have the decency to face me!"

At this, Will raised his eyes, staring Adams coldly and hardly in both eyes before raising his eye brows just a touch, still gasping for breath. There was no need for his usual grin to complete this look of contempt, which enraged the under-butler further, who let out a gravely "Why you little…" turning a shade of beetroot which was uncannily similar to Wills.

Breathing heavily, Will let out a little snort, then indicated with his eyes (and a barely detectable nod) over to the crowded table where the entire employ were watching, resting his gaze on a particularly key witness - Lizzie, who was squirming in her seat, with an expression of strained hesitance. Prior to this moment, the maid had considered leaping into action herself, in his defence, but now two things pinned her to her chair; the recollection of Will's cold attitude towards her the past few weeks, and her father's powerful stare.

Instead, she simply lowered her, resting the tip of her nose on her knuckles. At this, Adams roughly released Will, banging his head accidentally on purpose on the door as he did so, just for good measure. As he took his hands away, he realised that Will's hair was sopping wet, and now his hands were unpleasantly clammy. "Urgh" he muttered, as he turned away from the door, wiping his hands down his waistcoat.

As the elder was doing this, Will too brushed himself off, and began to make his way over to the table, so he could be in full view when breaking the news. However, he didn't get very far, as on lifting his hands up to inspect them, Adams discovered something that he (now unbelievably) hadn't noticed when he was closer to Will.

"And just where do you think your going Mr Forrest?" he quizzed in an authoritive, but slightly malicious tone

"Im going to have my dinner SIR" grimaced Will, giving his superior a polite (but entirely false) nod.

"Ooooh no your not" Adams layed down the law.

"Look, Ive done your stinking dirty work, now just let me have my-"

"Och, you've certainly done a grand job aye!" Adams bellowed, taking his seat at the head of the table, picking up the remainder of his chicken leg.

For a second Will paused, totally bewildered at what the sadistic Scotsman was getting at, he knew full well there was something, as Andrew Adams never paid anyone, least of all him a compliment and actually meant it. Looking round, he could see the others had this notion too, they were just waiting for him to kick off again. A little nervous, he started shuffling towards the table.

Thumping his beer glass down onto the table, Adams reiterated "No, see, I told ye, your not eating with us-"

"Really, well that's not what Mr Jarvis says!" Will retorted. He now desperately wanted to lie low and just get the information he'd given himself a stitch trying to deliver, to those who needed it most. But somehow, Adams never failed to push his buttons.

"Well if your looking to Mr Jarvis to defend you, I'm afraid you'll be waiting a long, long time, you may as well wave the white flag now. He's still as disgusted with your recent behaviour as the rest of us are, only one hundred times over" Adams paused here for dramatic effect, allowing Will to look around the table, where very few people seemed to be disagreeing with what had just been said. "And, if you'll let me finish, there's no way your eating at my dinning table smelling like a pig sty - you're a bloody disgrace. Now, get yourself up those stairs and get scrubbed up, when your back, you can have whatever's left, after all, that's what they feed pigs isn't it?"

For a moment, Will just stood motionless, seething with anger after such a putdown, whilst Adams, then followed tentatively by the rest of the diners resumed their meals, unsure of where to look, except George and Joe who were sending him supportive glances, as was Lizzie, but hers went unnoticed.

Still looking down at his dinner, "For the last time" Adams started off calmly, but with a deathly undertone, before his head shot up "The door is there" he snarled, indicating to it threateningly with his knive. "MOVE!"

With this, Will reluctantly exited the room, not allowing any more room for Adams to degrade him further.

Less than ten minutes later, a calmer Will Forrest re-entered the dining room in a much less dramatic fashion, but the urgency to inform his colleagues of the arrival had increased. Adams didn't even do him the courtesy of looking up as he walked over to the table, as the under-butler knew very well that it was Will who would walk through the door next.

The meal was at its end, only the last few stragglers remained, tucking into their second helping of blueberry crumble - naturally, Fred and George were two of them. Adams had given the maids leave of the table to start preparing for the washing up, and the person whom Will was seeking out was one of these.

As time was now very much of the essence, for once, thinking logically, instead of solely about lining his own stomach, Will asked his two fellow footmen "Where's Grace, I need a word?"

Barely looking up from his pudding, George simply gestured with his spoon and replied "She's in the kitchen mate, whats up?"

"Oh, nothing really" Will fobbed him off, turning on his heels walking back down the table, towards the kitchen door.

Typically, Adams had overheard them, and couldn't resist a little dig as Will walked by "Ahhh, onto the next one is it? I'm watching you laddie" he said quietly, with a wink and a smile that unnerved Will, but didn't deter him from his course. Adams then continued at a high pitch to ensure that Will could here him in the hallway "You ought to watch that one Georgie!"

Although George had no intention of taking Adams' taunt to heart, as soon as he'd shovelled the rest of his pudding down, he was hot on Will's heels, who had now found the maid stacking up the dishes, and who was less than eager to speak to him

"Your dad not with you then?" she scoffed, pushing Will out the way with an elbow in the stomach as she hauled another stack of crockery onto the kitchen table.

At this, Will had to bite his tongue, there was now a more pressing matter to attend to. "Look, Grace, I'm not going to apologise for-"

"Nah didn't think you would, you must've used all your apologetic strength to win round poor Mrs Ryan. When I think what you father-"

"Alright, alright, that's enough Grace!" George chipped in, "He's got something to say"

"Well its nothing I want to here, if you'll excuse me" she sneered, bustling passed to two footman as she went towards the door.

"Maybe you wont like it, but at least here him out, I certainly want to know" reasoned George, looking from Grace who was stood in the doorway to Will stood next to him.

"Your not going to like it Grace" Will started, walking towards her, shutting the door, as Grace walked passed him to stand next to George. "But you've got to hear it sometime, and the sooner you do the better, trust me"

As Will said the latter in such a serious tone of voice, Grace looked up at George, hoping he'd know what Will was on about, but he just looked down on her, totally oblivious to what Will was about to say.

Cut to outside, looking in through the kitchen windows Will walks towards the couple, then round them, leaning against the window ledge as he breaks the news, at which Grace gasps, her eyes widening, jaw dropping, clasping her hands over her mouth. George stands there shell shocked for a second, before, snaking his arms around Grace, drawing her to him, as she buried her head in his chest.

"What in blue blazes are you doing here?" Jarvis bellowed.

Any normal person would have recoiled from such an outburst, the temper of the butler when roused had now become a local legend; however it appeared to have quite the opposite effect of the new arrival. The smirk on his face seemed, if possible, to increase to a full evil grin and instead of shrinking back into the corner he walked further into the room, drawing up a spare chair and sat down at the table.

"Now Jarvis I would have thought that would have been obvious to everyone, even you! After all you have been told to expect me!"

Jarvis, whose face had quickly turned from pink to scarlet, was lost for words; no it couldn't be him he thought to himself, what idiot would appoint this monster as a valet. Then the thought suddenly hit him, this was Lord Julian they were talking about.

"Excuse me," piped a timid voice, and both Jarvis and the newcomer shifted their attention to the right hand side of the room were the rotund Mr Simpkins sat. Embarrassed at being the focus of everyone's gaze the portly fellow mopped his brow with his handkerchief before continuing. "Would someone kindly explain what is going on?"

"Oh course my dear chap!" Expounded the newcomer cheerfully, delighted at once more regaining the floor and beating Jarvis to the draw. "I am Mr Keneally, Lord Julian's Personal Valet."

Whilst Frank had been speaking Mr Simpkins had been nodding furiously, however this explanation did not lift the confused expression from his face. "I still don't understand!"

"Ahhhhhhhhhh, well you are new here, otherwise I'm sure our esteemed Mr Jarvis would have found time to spin you the tale. Once upon a time, in a kingdom far away there was a young under-butler called Frank. Now Frank was a bright lad, ambitious and keen to get on in life, and he realised early on that there was more to life than servitude. So he decided to leave his home and go off and seek his fortune in the big wide world. However many of his fellow servants were jealous of the lads youth and daring and so conspired to make his life as hard as possible, most noted for this was the strict and overbearing butler at the castle where Frank worked."

"Now Frank had a sweetheart as fair and true as any lad could hope for, and Frank his love talked endlessly about their future and the dreams they would build together. However the day came when young Frank was ready to leave his home and set out to make their dreams come true, but what he didn't know was that the strict butler and his cohorts had conspired to try and ruin young Frank. At first they tried to bully him directly into staying, but the brave lad stood up to their taunts and torments and stood his ground."

"However the conspirators had another plan, far more devious and treacherous than the first. Whilst Frank had been away, faithfully fulfilling his final duties to his lord, they had been poisoning the mind of Frank's sweetheart against him; filling her head with fears and doubts. Then finally the day came when they were ready to leave and his sweetheart refused to go, and the conspirators were delighted and rejoiced knowing that they had hurt Frank more deeply than if they had imprisoned him within the castle dungeons."

"But Frank was not afraid, he knew his lady loved him still, if only he could talk to her once more he was certain she would throw off the spells and enchantments of their enemies. However she had been locked up in a tower to ensure that they were kept apart, but Frank still had some loyal friends up at the castle and they smuggled a message to his lady begging her to meet him at their usual rendezvous point later that night. But Frank's message to his lady love was intercepted, and although she met him the conspirators were close by, and as Frank was trying to convince his love to leave, one of them appeared out of the darkness and spirited her away. Then at the insistence of the strict butler Frank was exiled from the kingdom, sent far away from his beloved."

"However Frank did not forget his love nor those who had taken her from him, and vowed to spend the rest of his life in search of her and in wreaking revenge on those who had wronged him." He added finally, his gaze resting firmly on Jarvis as he spoke attempting to gage the butler's reaction, but Jarvis apart from being slightly red was acting surprisingly calm. At first Frank wondered whether the obvious references had been lost on the butler, maybe his age was really starting to affect his mental capacities.

Looking around the room his gaze settled first on Simpkins, the allusions within his story had certainly hit home there, as the portly gentleman was looking distractedly between both him and Jarvis. There was only one other person's reaction he was interested in, he didn't care two hoots about the other valets or even Mrs Diggins, turning his head to the right he locked gazes with the housekeeper. For once he was surprised, the sheer force of her glare was unexpected, true she had always been protective of Jarvis before; he had even suspected at times their relationship was slightly more than professional, however the scale of her silent rage astounded him.

"A very amusing tale, Mr Keneally, but like a good fairy stories it has little to no basis in fact!" She snapped practically rising out of her seat, only being stopped from doing so by a restraining hand from Mr Jarvis, whose touch Frank noticed seemed to linger longer than necessary, maybe things had moved on in his absence, and he had to resist the urge to rub his hands together in glee. He'd been looking for years for something to bring Jarvis down with; wouldn't it be poetic justice if love would prove to be the butler's Achilles heel.

Rising to his feet gracefully, Frank picked up his top hat and coat and moved towards the door, "Well I'd better go and supervise the safe removal of my luggage, after all who knows better than I what tricks these lower servants like to play. Till tomorrow then." And with that parting comment he bowed graciously to the room before sweeping out into the darkness.

Jarvis was sat in his room staring morosely into the fire, a glass of brandy in his hand, the contents of which were being swirled around like a whirling dervish before Jarvis brought it to his lips and downed it in a mouthful. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he continued to stare into the flames, this had always been able to quiet his thoughts before but now his mind refused to cooperate, continuingly replaying the events of that evening in his mind. Damn it, why did he have to come back now? That snotty nosed arrogant little whelp!

Jarvis remembered vividly their last encounter, it was not something you forgot being told by someone you'd spent time and effort supporting and promoting, tutoring in the art of service, that your life was pointless and worthless. That the masters you served and system you uphold is antiquated, that there is no honour in a life of servitude. It was bad enough that Frank had insulted him so in private, but then he had done something unforgivable in Jarvis's eyes, he had deliberately undermined his authority in front of the staff, humiliating him in public.

Jarvis gripped the arm of his chair, last time he'd had the satisfaction of slapping that smug look off the rascals face, but now! Now he was in a very difficult position. True he was still head of the household, the Earl's man, but in reality the future of Taplows was dependant on Lord Julian, or more precisely his money. Frank as his personal valet would have his lord's ear, and so was in a powerful position to do great damage to Jarvis should he wish to do so and judging by his outburst this evening that was indeed his intent.

Suddenly Jarvis was brought out of his silent reverie but a soft yet insistent tapping at his door. "Come in", he muttered, as if to no one in particular, although he had a more than sneaking suspicion as to who his visitor was.

Slowly the door opened and Flora sashayed into the room, she didn't speak but walked over to Walter wrapping her arms round his shoulders and kissing him lightly on the top of the head. Reaching backwards Jarvis grasped her hands and brought them forward; placing tender kisses in each of her palms before releasing them.

"What took you so long?" He asked.

"I had to go and check on Grace, make sure she was alright."

"And is she?" Jarvis asked.

"Yes, Will had already told her and George was looking after her so I think she'll cope." Flora replied running her fingers through his hair soothingly.

"Good." Jarvis added, although his thoughts did not dwell on the plight of the young maid, she would get over it, they all would; after all it wasn't like they had any other choice.

"Walter Corey you're all tense again!" Flora teased, her hands now kneading the butler's tensed muscles.

"That feels much better thank you." Jarvis exclaimed, leaning back into her touch and closing his eyes, finally starting to relax.

After a few moments Flora added in a concerned tone, "It can't be good for you all this worrying, you're too wound up, though it's no wonder with the weight of all our fates upon your shoulders. I just wish there was something I could do to help."

Gently Walter brushed away her hands and rose out of his seat, walking round the chair to face her. Slowly he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her against him, leaning down he rested his head on her shoulder. For several minutes neither moved Walter content just to be held and comforted within Flora's embrace. Slowly he nuzzled into her neck, kissing and nipping along her collar bone, then up her neck and along her jaw until he claimed her lips. Flora responded passionately, kissing him back as though her life depended on it.

Gradually Walter drew her over to the bed and sat down pulling her with him; then gently he pushed her back, his hand moving to the fastenings on her dress. His mouth moving to her shoulder as her dress loosened, then travelling down covering every new exposed inch of her with a kiss and caress. However as he began to quickly unlace her corset Flora stopped him, pushing him off of her she grabbed desperately for the collar of her dress.

"What the hell is wrong?" Walter demanded.

"I'm sorry I can't!" Flora gasped.

"Why ever not? Jarvis asked jumping to his feet and stalking over to her.

"I can't, I'm just not in the mood tonight!"

"Well you could have fooled me, especially as it was your idea!" He retorted angrily, upset and confused by her conflicting messages.

"Walter please, lets not argue, I just can't!" Flora replied leaning against the fireplace for support.

"Then why come here tonight? Why make that comment about wanting to help relax me, if you were just going to lead me on and then turn around and say no?" Jarvis expounded. "Or was that the whole point, you wanted to see if I would jump through your hoops….. Or is that you have a previous engagement this evening you don't want to miss?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Flora asked stunned.

"It just seems funny to me, one minute you are completely in the mood ready to make love and then suddenly whoops sorry your not. Are you sure it isn't more of a case that you've had a better offer for your time this evening and so don't want to wear yourself out first bedding me out of pity?"

Flora didn't reply, he couldn't be serious, did he still think there was something going on between her and Will. "Walter stop, this is madness!"

"Oh I'm crazy am I? Well madam you want me to believe you?"

"Yes I am telling you the truth." Flora pleaded, grasping his arm.

"Somehow I doubt that, but there is a way to convince me!" Jarvis retorted grabbing her firmly by the elbows.

"What?" She asked warily.

"From now on you spend your nights in my bed!" Jarvis raised a hand to fall stall her protests. "I'll behave like the perfect gentleman, if you aren't ready then fine I can wait, but I won't be made a fool of Flora!"

Flora shook herself free of his grasp, shaking her head furiously her own temper getting the better of her. "How dare you! How dare you stand there and order me about like…like I'm something you own? We aren't married yet Walter Corey, nor at the moment is there any likelihood of us ever being so! If you can't trust me then there is little point to this relationship."

"How can I trust you? When you've admitted to my face that you've kissed another, which means you must have wanted him on one level or another. Can you honestly stand there now and say you're not still attracted to him, how I can I compete, he's so damn young?"

"But I don't love him, I love you!" Flora pleaded.

"Then prove it, stay here with me, be my wife!" Jarvis whispered, reaching out and brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

"I can't, don't you understand I can't?" She replied tears spilling down her face.

"No my dear I don't understand!" Jarvis replied his voice turning icy as he backed away from her. "I could understand if you didn't want me anywhere near you, if loosing the baby had made you uncomfortable with any sort of intimacy, but as tonight has proved that doesn't appear to be the case. In fact I'd go so far as saying before your change of heart you seemed practically on heat, but then suddenly after egging me on you turn to ice, why? Hmmm." He asked as he paced the room. "So what other possible explanation is there, other then that indeed you are desperate even begging to be bedded just not by me?"

"I do want you! It's just…." Flora tailed off.

"Just WHAT? For god's sake woman tell me what is going on!" Jarvis bellowed walking up to her and seizing her by the shoulders trying to shake the answer out of her.

"I don't want to get pregnant!" Flora whispered bowing her head with the relief of finally getting it off her chest.

"Is that it?"

Flora didn't answer, she just nodded her head slowly.

"Oh Flora!" Jarvis exclaimed, relieved at her confession and pulling her into a bone crunching embrace. "Is that all? Oh love why didn't you just say so?"

"I was afraid you would hate me?" Flora sobbed burying her head into Walter's shoulder.

"No I understand of course you don't want to get pregnant now, you've been through so much lately I can wait, and then after the wedding we can let nature take its course."

In tears Flora pushed him away and staggered towards the door.

"Where are you going, what's wrong now?" Jarvis called out to her.

"You didn't listen to me Walter, I'm not sure you ever do!" Flora added bitterly as she turned the door handle. "I didn't say I don't want a baby now, I said I don't want to be pregnant and I meant ever!" And with that she turned her back on him, slamming the door shut behind her.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the three lower servants were panicking, and although their anxieties had been subdued a little during Mrs Ryan's presence, panic stations were now reaching fever pitch. They were wondering why the hell Frank hadn't found them (or more accurately Grace) yet, as the housekeeper had informed them he had stormed out of the upper servants dinning room with that intent.

Whilst they were all relieved he hadn't actually located them yet, this didn't do much to compensate the knowledge it wouldn't be long before showed his face. This, Grace had already resolved that she didn't wish to see, not now, not ever, meanwhile George had professed that if he came across 'the pillock', he wouldn't be held responsible for his actions.

Whilst Grace was inwardly touched at George's defensive display, in the heat of the moment, she snapped, telling him that it wasn't his fight. George had been understandably hurt by this, and so lashed back, accusing Grace of making him feel useless, resulting in the two of them descending into bickering. Only Will remained somewhat calm and focused, pacing back and forth in front of the window, trying to come up with a plan.

When he'd lost his thread at least half a dozen times, and could stand no more of the two lovers ranting in the back ground, he paused, turned towards them, raised his hands into the air and shouted above their squabbles "Will you two just shut up for a second!"

At this, the pair, whose noses were now only inches apart, staring hard into the each other's eyes, scowled and turned their heads sharply towards Will who continued

"Don't you see, this is what he'd want? The pair of you at each others throats - literally" giving then a stern look.

Reacting to what had just been pointed out, they looked at each other before backing away slightly, nervously brushing themselves off. George walked over to a chair and dejectedly slumped into it, running his hands through his hair, then down his face, bringing them to rest on his chin, his elbows on his knees. Grace wandered over to the door, but as it wasn't open, she couldn't go through it, and so resigned just to stop, look down at the floor, her left-hand fingertips rubbing her forehead, her right hand on her hip.

After a tense moment, George lifted his head and after brushing his teeth with his tongue, turned to face Will asking spitefully "Well just what the hell are we supposed to do?"

At this, Grace, her back to the two men, facing the door, let out large sigh followed by a quick series of trembling breaths, before the tears began to fall. However, the first didn't get very far, as George jumped up, ran to her, brushing it away. He took her head in his hands, quickly whispering "Its alright Grace, its gonna be alright, he cant touch us" before kissing her forehead and taking her in his arms.

This quaint little moment however, was interrupted by Will, who announced "I'm going to tell you exactly what we're going to do, well, for tonight at least."  
This intrigued the couple, as they looked up at each other, before gazing at Will, hoping he had a probable solution

Cut to the second floor corridor, which the new arrival was now purposefully striding down. After leaving the upper servants meal, instead of storming down to find his old colleagues, he had taken it upon himself to check on his master. He did a lot of this 'just checking', as it had proved to keep him well and firmly rooted in Lord Julian's good books - such an act, most would refer to as 'sucking up', the art of which Frank had now perfected.

But as he rounded a corner, suddenly he found he could go no further - Will was blocking his way. Before Frank could round him, or if necessary, push him out of the way, the former reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously, adding a "Frank mate, what you doing back here?"

As Will had been an ally in the past, Frank could not resist returning the gesture, and informing Will that he was now valeting for Lady Caroline's fiancé, and was being paid a ridiculously high wage to boot. Once he had stopped singing his own praises (which Will pretended to be enthralled by, only to stall him, whilst George got Grace well out of sight), Frank asked his companion "So Mr Forrest, hows life treating you as under-butler then?"

Will was at a cross roads here. Should he tell the smug sod that he'd never properly been given that station, allowing the arrogant womaniser to pity him (which, he thought, might take up some time)? Or, should he play along, and assert that he had the others wrapped around his little finger?

He concluded to go down the path of least resistance, which incidentally, was neither of these. He resolved to let him carry on thinking that which he had assumed, but was very sketchy with the details. Pretty soon, he could tell that Frank was getting weary of the conversation, as he was repeatedly looking over Wills shoulder. So, Will decided to swing the topic back to one which he knew the vain valet would have no hesitation in taking up, using the old 'I know all about me, I want to know what you've been up to in London'.

It turned out, that on leaving Taplows, Frank didn't go home, as being a local boy, home was roughly only a mile or two away from the place he running from. So, he had decided to venture to London, with the aim of joining the navy, seeing a bit more of the world etc etc.

One stormy late summers day, as the SS Periwinkle was rounding the Rock of Gibraltar, the Admiral let Frank (who was in mid hurl over the starboard bow) know, that he was well aware that the sea faring life was obviously not for him. To this, Frank had no choice but to admit it was true, but, in a shrewd move, ensured the Admiral, that if he so wished, he could put up with his queasiness 'to serve Queen and Country' (this is where the sucking up really began).

As Will could imagine, this certainly impressed the Admiral, leading him to offer Frank the chance to work for his son, who was in need of servants to staff his new London residence. Lord Julian honoured his father's judgement and appointed Frank as his personal valet. "And the rest, as they say, is history!" Frank concluded his epic tale.

However, on coming back down to earth, Frank noticed that Will's once eager face, had slipped into a rather blank expression - was he listening anymore? Frank looked puzzled for a moment, as Will appeared to be in some sort of trance, but he couldn't be sure. So, in order to check if his audience was still paying attention, he continued in a raised voice "And then the sea monster swallowed the Admiral whole!"

This did the trick, snapping Will out of his slumber "Sea monster!" he cried, looking at Frank as if he had two heads.

"You haven't been listening to a word I've said have you?"

"What, course I have!" Will protested, desperately trying to recall a few details that he'd actually been able to catch.

"Nevermind, I'm sure it wont be the only opportunity I get to tell it" Frank replied, quite calmly, as he didn't really care if Will had taken any notice, as he had bigger fish to fry, and as he had Will temporarily flummoxed, he saw his chance to get some information out of the hapless footman. "So, things have progressed with Jarvis and Ryan then, I've heard they make quite a couple!"

"You haven't heard the half of it mate, believe me!" Will sniggered, without thinking, quickly trying to backtrack, but Frank cut him dead. "Really, my, my, I have missed out!" he mused back, with a devious glint in his eye, which Will failed to spy.

"Though, there's one person, in particular that I've missed." he said with a rather devious tone in his voice. "Where is she Will?"

"Where's who?" Will let out, not realising how stupid that sounded until he'd said it aloud.

"Come on, don't play dumb with me, we know each other too well for that." Frank scoffed.

"She's on duty"

"At this hour?"

For what seemed like a lifetime (but was actually a few seconds), Will stood there, lost for words, his mind racing trying to think up an excuse. The only one he could grasp at the moment was totally absurd, and wholly implausible, but, if Frank had been away at sea, he wouldn't have known any different, so Will took a gamble.

"Shes, shes, with little Lord Harry, he's been having a few restless nights…"

"Right, thanks for that." Frank said shortly and sharply as he pushed passed Will, no doubt to make his way to the nursery, prompting Will to think even faster. "NO, um, no, don't disturb her, if the little sod wakes up, you know what a tantrum he has, and the Earl has made it perfectly clear that the next servant who causes another screaming fit will be dismissed".

Frank didn't quite swallow this, but resolved that she probably wouldn't thank him for turning up whist she was on duty, especially when he knew full well how much her precious job meant to her. After a moment of grinding his teeth with frustration, Frank decided that Will was right, and that he didn't want to do anything to annoy Grace further. So, he bid Will goodnight, mockingly thanking him (though in a most sincere tone) for the chat, and walked back the way he came, towards the upper servants dwellings.

But instead of going straight to his room, the thought that Jarvis and Mrs Ryan might well be together intrigued him, and as he walked along the upper servants corridor, he couldn't resist stopping at the butler's door to try to detect any signs of life. When he couldn't, he was momentarily disappointed, but then the thought occurred to him, that they must be in her room. As a crafty grin spread across his face, he picked him self up, and marched further down the corridor.

As he reached Flora's door, he heard a sound that he hadn't exactly been expecting - the sound of a woman crying. He noticed that her door was slightly ajar, so peered through the slim opening, finding the housekeeper sat at her desk, with her head resting on her folded arms that lay on the table in front of her. Frank felt a slight twinge from his conscience, but quickly brushed this aside, pushing the door open.

Flora didn't lift her head at this, but when Frank spoke, she sat bolt upright, even when he saw the tears streaming down her face, he didn't regret it. "You know, you could have done SO much better" he teased with a great smirk on his face.

In a rage Flora leapt to her feet, letting out an angry scream as she ran to the door, slamming it hard in his face, before collapsing onto her bed, sobbing. Frank flinched only slightly as the door came to rest just millimetres from his nose. He took a deep breath before leaning even closer to the door, coldly snarling "I hope he doesn't make you too unhappy my dear, with the time you have left!" After waiting for a response that never came, he simply huffed, turned on his heels, and stalked back down the corridor, with a self-congratulatory snort.


	2. Episode 2

Lower Servants gathered round for breakfast, Mr Adams sat at head of the table, Grace sitting between George and Will, the two lads having taken it upon themselves to act as her personal bodyguards. They had been waiting in the corridor outside the maids' room for her this morning and had followed her everywhere since then; one of the lads had even stood in the room whilst she made the bread for the family's breakfast. However despite this Grace was still uneasy, the idea that just round the corner Frank could be standing waiting for her made her tremble in fear.

She wondered now how she could ever have had feelings for him, why had she ever agreed to marry him? Looking over at George, who kept glancing at her a worried expression on his face, she realised she had never loved Frank, not really loved him. How could she have? The feelings she felt for George were by comparison so much stronger, at his request she would gladly leave Taplows, true she would be sad to leave but it would be far more painful to loose him.

However this did not make her feel any easier; the knot of fear in her stomach was in fact getting worse not better. A small part of her wished Frank would just show up now so that she could get it over with. She knew everyone was worried about how she would react when brought face to face with her attacker and it touched her the level of consideration and concern people were showing her; even Charlotte had made an effort, Grace had overheard the girl's prayer that morning and was surprised to hear her own name mentioned.

Despite all this support she still felt sick to her stomach, in such a large house it wouldn't be hard for Frank to get her alone and the thought of him finishing what he started all those months ago made her quake in fear. She rather die than let him touch her again, but it was this scenario that played on her mind constantly till she wanted to scream out loud.

Looking down at her untouched plate she pushed it away, noticing that she hadn't taken a bite George leant over and whispers in her ear reassuringly, "don't worry Grace, Will and I will keep an eye on you all day, we won't leave you alone for more than five minutes."

"That's right mate!" Will added quickly before returning to his bacon.

"Don't be daft George, how can you and Will look after me, you know Adams he'd never stand for it."

"I mean it Grace; I'm not leaving you unprotected whilst that monster is walking around here!"  
Grace smiled at his words but at the same time tears sprang to her eyes; he really must love her to risk the wrath of Andrew Adams. She leant forward and placed a tender kiss on his cheek not caring who saw.

"My My, standards round here must really be slipping! Obviously the decline in fortunes has been accompanied by a decline in morality!" Echoed a voice from above.

All of the staff stopped eating to glance up at the balcony where an incandescent Frank was standing glaring down at the people below, specifically Grace and George. His fury at the obvious intimacy of their relationship was evident, so much so he didn't hear Adams's greeting until it is repeated in a much louder voice.

"Good Morning Sir!"

"Who the devil are you?" Frank shot back his confusion obvious to all.

"Mr Adams, Under-Butler." Adams replied puffing out his chest.

"But…." Frank began his gaze drifting to Will then back to Adams, realisation dawning, "I see delighted to make your acquaintance Mr Adams I am Mr Keneally lord Julian's Valet, although most people here will remember me as your predecessor. If you don't mind Mr Adams may I borrow one of your staff, it's amazing how much has changed in such a short time and I could do with someone to show me where things have been moved to."

"Of course sir!..Will!" Adams bellowed causing the young footman to wince slightly at the volume, but before Adams could continue Frank cut in.

"Oh there's no need for a footman, after all it's not like you have them to spare, no I'll borrow a maid if you don't mind, Grace would be perfect if she could be spared from her duties?"

"Ah well.." Adams began, "I dunnie know about a maid after all they're Mrs Ryan's responsibility." He hedged trying to ignore both the pleading looks sent to him along the table by both Grace and Lizzie.

"Come now man I won't keep her long!" Frank cut in sharply, his voice dangerously low and clipped. "Just long enough!" He added softly, his eyes locking on Grace's before he winked suggestively, causing the maid to shudder in revulsion.

For a moment Adams stood there umming and urring unable to think up a decent excuse for the maid, quailing under the intensity of Franks stare, the valet's gaze was locked with Adams's, peering down at him as if he were something small and nasty he was examining under a microscope. Adams was trapped and could feel little beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and he had to resist the urge to dab at them with his handkerchief. "Well I suppose…"

"Excellent!" Frank replied before Adams could finish. "I'll expect her momentarily." With that he turned and swept out of the room leaving a worried and pale Grace behind.

A few moments later and the room was still unusually quiet, the only noise was the clink of cutlery against china, everyone's heads were down and no one was speaking the only exchange was that of worried glances across the table. Suddenly Grace got to her feet and shaking off George's restraining hand marched determinedly out of the lower servants hall and up the stairs towards the Upper Servants dining hall. Her intention had been to find Mrs Ryan before Frank found her, after all Mr Adams did have a good point it was Mrs Ryan who had final say over the maids duties and if Mrs Ryan said she had too much work to do then someone else would be assigned to show Frank around. She was just about to knock on the door when suddenly someone roughly grasped her elbow and dragged her down the corridor.

"Come on now my dear, there is much to do!" Frank hissed nastily in her ear as he hurried her down the back corridor and off towards the main body of the house, far away George, Will and Mrs Ryan.

At first Grace struggled but Franks grip was like iron and he refused to let her go, quickly escorting her to their destination. When they reached his room he opened the door and flung her in like a rag doll locking the door behind them and removing the key, which he placed in his breast pocket.

After breakfast, Adams is sitting at his desk, ripping into a letter having raced past Fred, who had tried to stop him in order to ask him where he had put the silver polish as he had been the last one to (rather vigorously) use it the previous day. Adams had taken no notice of the startled footman, his mind firmly on the contents of the letter. With Lady Caroline's wedding approaching he is convinced the letter will contain details of a long-awaited visit not too long in the distant future, so anyone, especially a subordinate, who may attempt to accost him in the corridor had no chance. Even the Earl himself would probably have found difficulty attracting his attention. Adams pulls open the letter, scanning it quickly until a broad smile creeps over his face and he chuckles to himself.

Adams gripping the letter tightly: Tomorrow? Of course, the engagement party.

He is even more delighted to read that Rebecca would indeed be staying right up until the wedding – there was not much point in her returning up to Scotland as the journey would take a number of days, so she with little better to do thought it best to stay at Taplows until the Big Day. She has a lot to catch up on with Lady Caroline, she writes, as well as making up for lost time with a certain servant whom she has been missing dreadfully. Typically, the first thought to go through Adams' mind is that from the sound of it his luck was in, and there is every chance of a bit of nocturnal action to be had with Her Ladyship if they are careful, but then his more well-hidden emotional side takes over and he wonders whether he would still feel the same about her. He has a sneaking suspicion he will be even more besotted with the creature than before, every detail of her perfect face and body still etched onto his mind from those heady nights of unadulterated passion they experienced together up at Highlands, in the few weeks before he left. Holding that pleasing thought he rises from his chair, whistling, and exits.  
"Please Frank let me go!" Grace pleaded.

"Now Now my dear, calm yourself…." He replied walking towards her, Grace backed away until she was pressed up against the wall, "after all why would I want to harm a hair on your head? Hmmmmm" He asked brushing his hand softly against her cheek and rubbing a loose strand of hair gently between his fingers. "You know me Grace, why would I want to hurt something so lovely?" He whispered leaning in against her, his hot breath on her cheek.

"Leave me alone!" Grace whimpered.

"Well of course my dear if that is what you really want!" Frank replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he sauntered away from Grace and slumped elegantly down into his desk chair; reaching into one of the drawers he removed a beautifully wrapped parcel. Standing up slowly he wandered back over to her and held the package out to her, his trademark half smile pulling at his lips. Grace looked in bemusement from Frank to the proffered item, her expression a mixture of fear and bemusement.

"Come now Grace, its not going to bite you. After all that we've have been through together we still have to live and work in the same household, and I didn't come back her for any sort of revenge on you, lets just call this my way of showing you that I mean it!"

However still Grace was not convinced, if he had really had a change of heart and wanted to forget their past then she was willing to let it go, but… "But why should I believe you? You dragged me in here, why not bring tell me this in the scullery, you could have given me the present anywhere there was no need to bring me to your room?" She stuttered, her voice quaking with latent fear, which only intensified as Frank came closer once more stopping only scant inches from Grace, invading her personal space and forcing her back against the wall, pressing the parcel into her hand.

"Grace, Grace, my sweet naïve girl, do you really think you would have stayed long enough to listen to me given the choice? Or do you think we would have been left alone long enough? No those pesky interlopers would have put a stop to that, I doubt that young scallywag you're mixed up with would have left you alone long enough, can't say that I blame him! I bet the pair of you are always up to some sort of mischief, after all its not like your loved up superiors noticed a con artist when they saw one, so a couple of missing servants would hardly alert suspicions! Somehow I doubt very much you're the same love struck innocent beauty that captured my heart!" He added brushing his hand her cheek and tracing the outline of her jaw, his eyes locked firmly on her lips his breathing quickening slightly. Then just as Grace thought he was going to kiss her he pulled away and paced to the other end of the room.

"Probably a good thing, one of your most attractive qualities was that fresh innocence of yours, it made me fall for you, so it's probably best for everyone that is gone forever." He added maliciously his eyes raking knowingly up and down Grace's body, a slight leer distorting his handsome face, causing Grace to flush with embarrassment. 

Then he reached into his pocket and strode across the room, unlocking the door and opening it just wide enough for Grace to squeeze past him, "there you go my dear that was all I wanted with you….At least for the moment! However if I need you again I'll be sure to call and you be sure to come scurrying along, after all there is a hierarchy to respect."

Then as Grace brushed past him, his arm shot out anchoring her to the spot for a moment and he leant down and hissed poisonously in her ear. "Is it still hard on you my dear, you used to tell me how much you hated having to wait on others, having to place their opinions above your own? Of course had you left things could have been so different, you could have been the one giving the orders not obeying them. But then again you must have adapted by now, you're certainly getting the practice, I'm surprised you haven't been promoted faster, serving as you do both day and night!"

Disgusted Grace shook off his hand and stormed off down the corridor, Frank stood for a moment transfixed by the sight, then he called out after her. "The problem my dear is who you've chosen to service, may I suggest for the sake of your career you set your sights little higher after all its better to work directly under the organ grinder than his little monkey. Of course knowing how determined and resourceful you can be you're probably already giving both a good seeing to."

The arrangements for the engagement party are now under way, and under Lady Caroline's instructions it is to be nearly as lavish as the wedding itself, so downstairs it is all hands to the pump with little time to stand and discuss personal matters, although there is much relief that the first of the guests aren't arriving until the next day.

Jarvis and Flora are having a very brief business meeting about it, conducted in Jarvis' office, the two of them standing with the table in between them and both glaring at each other throughout. Adams is present of course, but his thoughts are very much concentrated elsewhere and only vaguely notices the obvious animosity between the couple. The meeting is now drawing to a close, and Adams is staring at the ceiling.

Jarvis walking towards the door, as Flora turns quickly to him: So I would appreciate it, Mrs Ryan, if you could keep your maids in check. I will most definitely be keeping a very tight rein on my footmen! With Mr Adams' help, of course.

Flora huffs, rolling her eyes as Jarvis looks impatiently at Adams who hasn't heard a word of it  
Jarvis: Mr Adams!

Flora not waiting for Adams' response: I am sure, Mr Jarvis, it is not my maids which can be the problem! As I have said before, you men have been put on this earth to manipulate us women just to get us into bed, damning the consequences. Don't tempt me to reinforce my white line, because I will!

Adams suddenly clicks out of his trance at the phrase 'get us into bed', staring first in shock then in surprised amusement at the housekeeper's outburst. He glances from Flora to Jarvis to gage his reaction, and unsurprisingly his expression is thunderous

Jarvis as if Adams isn't there, grabbing her arm and speaking harshly: I only meant, Mrs Ryan, that we need to stop any of the servants from slacking off work, I hardly see the need for your bloody line again. Anyway, I doubt very much it will be taken any more seriously than the first time you enforced it, under the current circumstances, do you!

Flora, disgusted, shakes his grip and shoots a glance at Adams, who is smirking away

Flora tears beginning to well up as she backs out of the door: Well, I will leave you two to have a good laugh at silly old Flora while she's gone! Just like the good old days, eh! If Felix was here……..

Instead of trying to placate her, Jarvis grunts angrily, sweeping past her, indicating to a confused Adams to follow him. Flora, unable to speak to Jarvis freely because of the under-butler's presence, stops in the doorway, determined not to cry. Jarvis wonders for a minute whether he is in fact becoming rather immune to Flora's tears, it seems once again such a regular occurance lately.

Adams in a smug aside to Jarvis: Seems like her chastity belt is well and truly back on

An hour or so later, the word is spreading that an arrival is imminent. Johnny has just returned from town saying a rather elaborate carriage is on its way in the direction of Taplows, and this causes immediate excitement amongst the lower servants, and panic amongst the upper staff. Jarvis quickly informs Cook to prepare the bird tonight instead of tomorrow due to unexpected guests, and Adams' heart leaps for joy at the prospect of who the arrival might be, running around frantically looking out of windows upstairs to try to get a glimpse of anyone approaching. This bizarre behaviour is beginning to perturb Jarvis greatly, so when a carriage can be seen in the distance clattering up the estate he sends a hopping Adams to go and inform the Earl of the imminent arrival

Adams his face falling as he tries to think of an excuse to greet them: But….but don't you need me? They may have a lot of luggage……..  
Jarvis exasperated: No doubt there will be enough footmen on hand, unless you would like to become one again! Please Mr Adams, for once today can you go and make yourself useful?

Almost tutting out loud, Adams turns on his heels and stalks off, leaving Jarvis, Will and George to greet the approaching arrival as if there is no surprise at them turning up early.

When she arrives and steps out of her carriage Will, George and Jarvis can't help but stand gobsmacked, their jaws dropped in awe of her beauty. Indecent thoughts suddenly spring to Will's mind, which he tries to suppress immediately as he mutters 'wham, bam thank you mam' so it is just audible to George. For a moment all three of them can, in a dream-like trance, visualise her stepping out and untying her hair, then shaking her head in slow motion so her firey-red tresses flow down her back as she winks at them, giving them a little wave before blowing each of them a kiss from those lucious, perfect lips and whispering 'hello, boys' in a sultry Scottish brogue. Jarvis sees her sexily saunter up to him, then teasingly running her hand through his hair before stroking his cheek and jaw and nibbling his ear…….

Rebecca her hands firmly clasped in front of her, an eyebrow raised, trying to get the butler's far-away attention: Mr Jarvis is it? Hello? Are you the butler?

She has noticed that the two footmen seem rather incapable of doing much either, so wonders for a minute if there is something desperately wrong with the water so far south of the border, but just in the nick of time Jarvis snaps out of his dreamlike trance to see her tapping her foot, her coachmen looking slightly puzzled as they pull her rather numerous bags and trunks off the carriage.

Jarvis clearing his throat, slightly embarrassed at the sudden spell she put over him: Lady Farquarson, I do apologise. Yes I am Mr Jarvis. Mr Forest! Mr Cosmo! Make yourself useful!

Both footmen snigger slightly, making a very quiet comment to each other about the Lady and what they would very much like to do to her. Rebecca smiles to herself, glancing up at Taplows and realising she loves it straight away. Looking back at Jarvis, she shakes her head slightly as she climbs the steps after him

Jarvis showing her the way through to the hall, trying to regain his professionalism: His Lordship will be with you momentarily, Your Ladyship. 

Rebecca Her beautiful eyes lighting up, a naughty twinkle appearing in them as she leans in slightly to Jarvis in an almost girlish manner: I thought it was you, out there on the steps, as my carriage pulled in. You are quite a legend now with the servants at Highlands, and good on you is what I say! 

She winks at him as Jarvis looks at her in shock, not really knowing how to respond to such words from a Lady

Rebecca her tone turning wistful: Well, you only get one life, so live it, I say.

Jarvis the situation too awkward for him to bear: Dinner will be served at half past seven, and cook is preparing some delightful game I hope Your Ladyship will approve of……….

But Rebecca had stopped listening to the butler after the word 'served' as the Earl is heading down the stairs, but more importantly with the under-butler following behind. Adams pauses on the stairs momentarily, his heart caught in his throat, and for a second he is sure it stopped beating. His knees buckle slightly as he stares in excitement and joy at the sight of Rebecca Farquarson looking silently up at him, her electric blue eyes capturing his. For this moment, the Earl and Jarvis have melted away, but quickly Rebecca notices that the Earl has given her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek. Not for the first time, Adams is desperately jealous of the Earl, but their eye contact has not broken, Adams emersed in her beauty. She is more gorgeous than he remembers, wanting her there and then, but all he can do is follow the Earl down the stairs as Lady Caroline's squeal is heard, and she comes running up to Rebecca, flinging her arms around her neck

Lady C High-pitched and over-excited: Becca! You're here early! Oh how marvellous to see you!

She begins wittering on about weddings, but Rebecca can only manage a brief hug back and a word or two about her journey before Caroline whisks her away to look at a drawing of her wedding dress, and the Earl goes in search of his next drink and to scour the newspapers AGAIN for any reports of a Fiffington-Piffles sighting.

Adams grinning as he approaches Jarvis: She is most definitely the beauty, is she not?

Jarvis, to Adams' surprise, doesn't scowl at him as normal and tell him to watch his tongue, but instead stands and nods in agreement with him, amazed at the woman's free thinking

Jarvis: Indeed she is, Mr Adams. And to think that you worked for her.

He shoots an almost cheeky glance at Adams, who straightens up, looking serious, for a brief moment feeling like Jarvis knows something. He knows this isn't possible, however, putting it down to a bit of a guilty conscience. There is another bizarre emotion Adams hasn't felt for a long time – two in one day, he ponders as Jarvis exists. Smiling he concludes that he must be losing his touch, before leaving to find a solitary corner to work out exactly when, not if, he is going to go to Rebecca's room that night

Its approaching dinner time now, and three of the Earl's five footmen are at present flaked out in their dressing room, attempting to recharge their batteries before their evening meal and subsequent night duties (all infinitely welcoming the former over the latter) Whilst the ever-conscientious George is powdering his wig, blissfully unaware of Grace's little tryst with Frank, Will and Fred (the latter also having been roped into unloading Lady Farquharson's belongings) were sat on chairs, their feet resting on the large wooden table in the centre of the room.

George had already scolded them for doing so, but far from heeding his message, they persisted to remove their boots and placed their feet back onto the table - as you can imagine, the aroma was far from pleasant, not that these two would notice, they were leant back, only George sat upright at the table, getting the full force of the stench. "Come on, its alright for you, Im the one who has to smell them!" George asserted, pushing Fred's feet off the table.

This didn't deter Fred, who placed them straight back again, professing with exaggerated satisfaction, folding his arms, "Georgie boy, when you get to First Footman, you'll get the privilege"

"Well, how come Will is then?" George retorted sarcastically, nodding at their companion who looked as if he were just about to doze off.

For a second, Fred was stumped, but before this became apparent to George, he quickly answered "Well Adams has had him on night duty last night, and every other night since he's been back with us, just give him a break" However, typical Fred, never to give a straight answer, continued

"Anway, he's a useless lump when he is awake, so we may as well just leave him there for all the good he does!"

George was content with this, and continued to brush his wig, adjusting the green bow, whilst Fred leaned back and clasped his hands behind his neck, groaning as he tried to make himself comfortable, he wouldn't minded forty winks either.

However, this lasted all of a minute or so, when George, being a little slow as usual, piped up "Talking of lumps - could our Scottish maiden HAVE anymore bags, I counted up to 21-"

"Probably because you couldn't remember what comes after that!" Fred quipped, opening one eye to look at George. "Nah mate, there were much more than that, all shapes and sizes, god knows what she's got in some of them - but I wouldn't mind finding out, would you?" he said suggestively, which brought a smile to both of them.

Suddenly, George stopped himself, and as if he were programmed to do so, checked over the room to see if Grace was around before answering "Well no I wouldn't actually"

"Ahhhh!" Fred teased, opening both eyes wide and pointing an accusing finger at George.

"Come on, I mean she is a bit of a looker isn't she?" George replied in a philosophical manner.

"Yeah, she's a bit of alright, think we must be a bit deprived down here, with ladies like THAT living north of the border!"

"And what, in you opinion sir, would those ladies be like?" an unfamiliar, but distinctively Scottish voice enquired.

On hearing the voice, both footmen swung round to gage the view of to whom it belonged, Fred hauling his legs down off the table, using the arms of the chair to help him sit up right. The voice was female, but certainly wasn't Lizzie's as she'd never refer to Fred as sir, even following his ascension to first footman. Both concluded that it must therefore have been the show stopping Lady F, fully expecting to see her angelic frame and flowing auburn hair on turning to face the door. However, what actually met them was a somewhat blander figure.

She had the same basic features, blue eyes, fiery red hair, but with a much duller finish. She certainly didn't have the clothing of a great lady, hers were browns and greys, as opposed to the others refined and rather luxurious gown. Their smiles were dampened on seeing this rather 'Plain Jane' standing in the door way. "Well, were you expecting the queen of sheeber?" she continued, as if she'd read their minds.

"Who, what…?" George started, still not having grasped the fact that she wasn't the same beauty that had arrived an hour ago.

Fred was a little quicker off the mark, but only because the lady in question was staring at him, quite oddly, so he thought it best to strike up a conversation to deter her from doing so. "What my esteemed colleague means is, what can we do for you miss….?"

"Oh" suddenly remembered that she hadn't introduced herself. "Douglish"

"That's a funny name for a maid isn't it!" chirped up Will, how had been roused from his light slumber.

She hadn't seen Will sitting in the corner up until that point, so jumped when his voice startled her. "Oh, no, no" she whittered nervously, looking at each footman in turn, but then again fixing her stare upon Fred. "That's not my forename-"

"Then what is it?" Fred spoke courteously to her, though his patience was wearing a little thin.  
This went unnoticed by the new arrival, who seemed quite taken that it was Fred who asked her.

"My name is Isobel"

Will hadn't failed to notice her manner towards Fred, so decided to stir things up saying "Oh, that's quite a pretty name, isn't it Fred?"

"Fred" Isobel let out with a little sigh, quickly recovering "So, your name is Fred then?" with a hu-hum, but still looking at Fred as if he were the most mouth-watering desert.

"Urgh, yes" he answered, with a fearful tone, and most confused look on his face, which didn't seem to discourage the young lady's gaze. "And this is Will" he said in a strained tone, shooting him a 'thanks a bunch mate' look at his friend, whilst Isobel's head was turned.

Quickly it turned back, so Fred launched into an introduction of George, who, having decided to help Fred out (as he couldn't risk him telling Grace of his comments on Lady F), asked her "Well, what brings you here then?"

"Well, Im Lady Farquharson's maid"

"Well we guessed that much!" Fred scoffed. When Isobel looked a little hurt and embarrassed at the tone in which that was said, Fred back peddled "What we mean is, what are you doing here, in the footman's dressing room?"

"Well, I had no idea that's what this room is, I had no idea Id find you in here, shirt untucked, button undone…" she said breathing heavily, until her breath ran out, at which point she was looking at Fred very oddly indeed.

At this, both Will and George exchanged looks, and could hardly contain themselves, whilst her focus of attention writhed in his seat, shooting them filthy looks.

After a few moments, she came out of her trance like state, looked a little sheepish at expressing herself so openly (not that she realised the half of it), and continued "Well, I was looking for a  
Mrs Regan, I understand she's the housekeeper here."

For a second, all three just looked at her as if she was a visitor from Mars, but Isobel was oblivious to this, as she was oblivious to her mistake, and still had one eye, and half of her wits concentrated on Fred.

"You must mean Mrs Ryan!" Will exclaimed.

"Mrs who?"

"Mrs Ryan, she's the housekeeper here" Will corrected her.  
Isobel looked quite confused at this, looking around the faces, hoping one (rather one in particular) would enlighten her.

At this, George decided to be kind to Fred, walking over to Isobel, taking her arm, and leading her out the door, assuring her that Mrs Ryan was her name, and he knew where she could be found. However, showing her to the door was proving more difficult as he'd expected, due to the fact that the poor, misguided maid kept looking forlornly over her shoulder at Fred, who could no longer keep eye contact anymore, being so embarrassed, for once in his life, appearing a little pinkish. Quite the opposite of him, was will, who slumped back down into his chair, and once the door was firmly shut, doubling over, laughing hysterically at his friend's misfortune

Adams hesitates slightly outside of Rebecca's room. It is approaching midnight and he is unsure if she is awake or still accustomed to the early nights she had sought before their affair began. He had better be quick about it, he concludes, before the Earl decides to go wandering about looking for malt or Lady Mary hurries down the corridor in search for 'Algie'. For once, he really did feel sorry for Jarvis. No self-respecting man needs a wrinkly mad old bat trying to get into his trousers. Dismissing that awful thought immediately, Adams raises his fist to tap on the door. He is sure that Rebecca's faithful Lady's maid Isobel is safely tucked up in the servants quarters, so taking a deep breath he knocks lightly. For a minute there is no response, so with a heavy heart

Adams turns to leave, but just as he does so the door creaks open and a delicate pale face peeps out. Before he can say a word, a hand appears and grabs his jacket, pulling him inside the room, the door shutting firmly behind him. The smell of her ever so familiar perfume fills his nostrils as he sees her standing before him, a small smile on her lips while dressed in a simple silk white nightdress draped loosely over her corset. Her hair is flowing freely down her back and over her shoulders, and to Adams she looks like a goddess, or an angel.

Rebecca stretching her arm out and cupping his face gently with her hand: Oh Andrew, how I have missed you. I saw the way you kept looking at me at dinner. I was so desperate for you to come to me tonight, I had almost given up hope.

Adams closing his eyes and touching her hand with his: I would never let you down, you know that……

Adams nearly bites his tongue at these words, and seeing the hurt in Rebecca's eyes he sighs, waiting for the questions to come tumbling out, but instead it is if she doesn't want to spoil what could be a perfect night – the whys could come later, tomorrow maybe, but for now words aren't needed. Gently pulling him close, she leans up and tenderly but forcefully kisses him, and for a moment he remembers the last kiss he encountered. A pang of guilt shoots through his chest as the memory of his encounter with Mrs Stanwick after the summer games flickers across his brain – the groping, the sheer unemotional animalistic lust the clinch brought out of them for that crazy ten minutes. This, however, is different. Rebecca does something to him that he fails to comprehend, he wishes to be tender and loving rather than brash and forceful during their physical moments together, and this feeling consumes him as he gathers his Lady in his arms and kisses her back. For now he has everything – a daughter and a loving, beautiful woman, and he vowed never to let either go again. The fact that he wouldn't ever want either of them to meet, let alone get to know each other, has yet to cross his mind.

Rebecca coming up for air as she runs her hands under his jacket: Oh Andrew, tell me there has been nobody else, please.

Adams unable to shake her gaze: No, nobody else. At all. I've been saving myself for you, my darling, until we could meet again.

He knows that she believes him, and questions why on earth she would do so after all he put her through, but before he can contemplate her naivety any further she gently takes his hand and places it on her chest and he obliges by slowly unlacing her nightdress, hungrily placing kisses on her slender neck as he moves her over to her four poster bed.

Rebecca raising her eyebrows naughtily and indicating to a large trunk in the corner of the room: Andrew, can you guess what is in there?

Adams looking over then smiling, nodding knowingly: Oh yes, I'm sure I can, you little minx.

Rebecca nuzzling his ear: I've brought a number of them, we can have so much fun while I'm here.

Adams chuckles, pushing her onto the bed before crawling down and kissing her toes, then her ankle and up her calf

Adams giving her a little wink: I'm sure we can.

Adams wakes early, his pocket watch reading 5.00 and his body clock telling him it is time to think about thinking about getting up. He glances over at Rebecca sleeping softly next to him, so rolls towards her, smiling before gently brushing her flawless cheek, as white as porcalean, with the back of his hand. This causes her to moan slightly, rolling to face him but still half asleep, and Adams wishes for a moment he can see what she is dreaming about and see if he is there. He lets his hand wander under the sheets, gently running his fingertips along her bare back and thinking how amusing it is that his colleagues are blissfully unaware of his liaison. If only they knew, he thought, that would wipe the smiles off their smug faces, although he chuckled with amusement thinking that with all the noise she made last night he wouldn't be surprised if the whole household had been woken. If only they knew that over the next few weeks he, a mere servant, will be on a regular basis bedding and satisfying one of the most – if not THE most – beautiful and eligible heiresses in the whole of the Scottish isles. This thought pleases him greatly, as he places a soft kiss on the end of his lover's nose.

Adams whispering gently: Rebecca? Rebecca, I've got to go back to my room very soon.

Rebecca stirs, stretching as her eyes flicker open, taking in her surroundings. Smiling at Adams, she leans forward and kisses him firmly, drawing him into a hug.

Adams: Was I up to standard last night?

Rebecca smiles wickedly, nodding emphatically as she runs her foot up his leg and points over to the still unlocked trunk.

Rebecca in a sultry tone, sitting up slightly: I think you know you were, but tonight I want some extra fun, I just need you to decide who you want to be.

Adams kissing her forehead: I am anything you want me to be.

Rebecca giggles as he pushes her back down onto the mattress, moving over her, but her expression turns pouty as she shoves him away.

Rebecca almost in mock anger: I don't think so, is this any way for an under-butler to behave?

Adams looks startled, pulling off her, but suddenly she raises her eyebrow, sitting up and provocatively sliding towards him, running her finger across his lips before pinning him down to the bed.

Rebecca naughtily: Unlike last night, Mr Adams, I think you'll find it's ladies first this time

Ten minutes later, Adams dresses quickly, not taking his eyes off Rebecca for a moment. She sighs then slides out from between the sheets, slipping on her cream dressing gown while humming gently to herself. Reaching the window she pulls back the curtains to let in a ray of autumn sunshine, smiling and gazing over towards the trees. Adams watches her carefully, noticing that her perfect form is silhouetted in the light of the window through her gown. Throwing his trousers on the bed, he walks behind her and gently places his hands on her waist, pulling her backwards and wrapping his arms around her. Moaning slightly she raises her left arm up behind her, running her fingers through his hair. She pushes his head down so his lips meet with her neck, her gown slipping off her shoulder to let him nuzzle and caress along it slowly.

Rebecca breathlessly: Oh Andrew, I must see you during the party.

Adams turning her to face him: Then you shall, my darling.

Rebecca pulling away slightly, her voice stern: You know we need to talk, there is much to be said after all this time.

Adams nods regretably, realising the whole heart-to-heart thing had to happen sooner or later, but why sooner? And surely he doesn't have to tell her EVERYTHING? She can't find out about Lizzie, about how he abandoned her even before her birth, about Jarvis paying off his debt, about Mrs Stanwick….Adams frowns, glancing at his pocket watch and gasping at the lateness of the hour

Adams nuzzling her hair: Aye, you're right, we do need to talk.

Rebecca kissing him, then moving over to the bed and handing him his trousers: Go on, you don't want to be caught, and neither do I! Dear Caroline would surely faint, and I am not sure her poor father would live the day!

Adams grins and finishes dressing, it very obvious to him that she finds her little 'secret' just as thrilling as he does his. With one last kiss and a squeeze of her bottom, he walks towards the door, not for a second wanting to leave her and this luxury for the misery of his own tiny room

Adams Turning, a small smile tugging at his mouth: If Your Ladyship requires any more assistance, then please do not hesitate to ring my bell.

Rebecca saucily, giving him a little sexy wave: Of course, Mr Adams, if I'm in desperate need of being seen to I know you're just the helpful servant to ask. pausing, lowering her voice We don't just have to TALK outside, you know, I'm sure.

As Adams goes to exit, he remembers once again his 'meeting' with Mrs Stanwick

Adams grinning and whispering: And I know just where we can go.

Flora sat at her desk staring hard at the open book of figures that lay in front of, however her real thoughts lay far away from her additions and subtractions, well in truth not far away, more to the point would be out the door and down the corridor concentrating on an occupant in another office. Slamming her pen down in anger and frustration Flora got to her feet, it was no good she was not going to get any work done until they had sorted this business out; Walter had to be made to understand. Quickly she strode down the corridor determined not to chicken out and avoid once again having this conversation with him.

As she neared Jarvis's office she slowed slightly hearing his voice raised as he was obviously bellowing at some poor servant for something or other, hesitating she wondered whether this was the best possible time, pausing outside his door her hand poised ready to knock. However the decision was soon taken out of her hand as the door was opened from the inside and a cowed looking Will emerged his ears red from enduring Jarvis latest petty rant. Surprised to see her standing in his way Will stepped back waiting for her to enter before he himself left, leaving Flora no chance of escape. She smiled grimly at Will as she entered and held the door open for the footman to leave, closing it securely behind afterwards.

"Walter!" Flora began walking towards the Butler who had resumed his seat and his work upon dismissing Mr Forest, and who did not even glance up at her when she spoke, his expression if not his thoughts retaining the same appearance of concentration on his figures. "Walter!" Flora repeated upon gaining not even an acknowledgement from the butler.

"I heard you the first time Mrs Ryan, however I am rather busy if you could get to the point!" Jarvis snapped.

"We need to talk!" Flora replied, relieved that nerves didn't show in her voice.

"Really I would have thought you had the arrangements for this evening's party well in hand by now and unless it is concerning work matters I doubt we have the spare time for such an indulgence." Jarvis countered still engrossed in his work.

"Walter stop it!" Flora yelled slamming her hands down hard in the desk top causing the inkwell to totter dangerously.

"Stop What?" Jarvis asked sarcastically, looking up at the housekeeper for the first time during their conversation.

"This, being like this with me." She replied her voice starting to crack as tears threatened.

"How else do you expect me to behave? Hmmmm….. I mean the distance between us my dear is of your own making, therefore I would have thought it was what you wanted?" He added, leaning back in his chair and looking up at her with an almost mocking expression.

"No I never…" She started but Walter cut her off with a derisive snort as he rose out of his seat and paced in front of the fireplace.

"Well then my darling perhaps you would care to explain. What did you expect would happen when you made decisions about our relationship without even having the decency to consult with me first? If you can call this a relationship?"

"I didn't do this to hurt you!"

"But you did!" Jarvis hissed back. "Losing our child it almost destroyed me as well you know….But did you even consider that? No!...The only thing that kept me going was the need to be strong for you, putting your feelings and well being before my own. And why?…Why?... Because somewhere deep down I had something else to cling to, the idea that eventually we could put that whole incident behind us, that we could move on and still have our family."

"Walter…" Flora began then trailed off, all her arguments forgotten in the face of such a declaration.

"I never thought I could hate you….But sometimes, sometimes…" Jarvis turned and glared at her and Flora trembled at the look of menace on his face, she'd seen it before but never directed at her.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"You're sorry!" Jarvis began in a dangerously voice, "You're sorry?...You damn well should be sorry; this whole mess is of your own making. Before you I was content. I had a good position, I was respected in my profession, now I find out I'm the talk the length and breadth of the country and why? Because of my involvement with you, I'd be lucky to get a job shining shoes in a more respected household."

"Excuse me…But I..." Flora cut in her temper rising.

"Yes because of you! But you've done worse than that! It was bad enough that you've made me a laughing stock amongst my peers, as long as I had the future to cling to nothing else would have mattered but no you had to take that away!"

"Do you know what's the worse thing you've done, you made me want that future. I'd never wanted a family before meeting you, even when I first found out you were pregnant I still didn't want to be a father, but like everything you played me, that business with Felix threatening to take my child away from me, until suddenly it was all I could think about. "

"And now, now all of a sudden you've changed your mind, and so I'm supposed to change mine as well. You don't want to get married or have a family, so I'm supposed to be satisfied with this, well I'm sorry my darling it won't work this time. I've told you before that I'm the man in this relationship; my wishes are those that should determine our future. So you have a straightforward choice Flora."

"What choice?" Flora asked her voice icy.

"Simple my dear, you can either marry me and perform your wifely duties, bearing my children and raising our family or…" Jarvis tailed off his eyes locked on Flora's before continuing.

"Or we can call it a day, put an end to both of our suffering, you can go back to your chastity belt and spinster existence if that is what you desire and I can move on, who knows maybe one day find somebody who understands and supports me rather than manipulating me for her own ends."

"You can't mean it? You're not serious?" Flora asked her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

"Deadly serious Flora."

"But you can't mean it? You love me and I love you!"

"Then prove it, do as I ask!"

"You aren't giving me any choice." She whispered despondently.

"On the contrary my dear I have given you a choice, a very clear choice, it just isn't one that you like." Walter countered softly walking over to Flora and grasping her face firmly between his hands. "Yes or No?"

"I….I"

"Yes or No?" He reiterated his eyes boring into hers.

"This isn't fair!" Flora retorted.

"Life isn't Fair! So what did you expect?"

"Walter I CAN'T!"

"No you WON'T, there is a world of difference Flora!"

"You're bluffing, you don't mean it, you wouldn't force me into this?"

"Believe me my dear the frame of mind you've driven me to means I'm capable of many things now I would never believed possible a year ago, even a week ago. This is tame by comparison, I am forcing you to make a choice, true one that you don't want to make but it is a choice none the less. Would you prefer it if I took that away from you, and forced my intentions instead?..." He asked slowly backing her towards the desk, then seizing her wrists and forcing her down against the desktop before kissing her savagely.

However just as suddenly as it began Walter pushed himself off of her, his breathing laboured and he stalked over to the fireplace, his hands shaking as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Thank god I am not that much of a monster yet, but don't push me Flora because I don't think you would want to discover how near to that particular precipice I really am! So I am giving you a choice, give me what I want or leave my sight!"

Shaking and sobbing Flora propped herself up on her elbows before pushing herself up off the desk and raising her fingers to her lips which felt sore and bruised from Walter's kiss. "Why are you doing this? Do you want to destroy us both?" She asked her voice cracking.

"I…I am not doing anything, you are the only destructive force in here and you're trying to drag me down as well, look what you've reduced me to, all I can think about day and night is you, I can't sleep without dreaming of you. The prospect of a future without being able to touch you is worse than death, so you make your choice and let me make mine, one of us will win or lose either way. I'll give you the rest of the day to think it over, if you chose me, then come to my room tonight and prove it, if you don't…. then don't bother to look for me in the morning, who knows I might even be able to succeed where you failed….."

"What?" Flora asked, panic rising in her chest he couldn't mean it she couldn't bear it if he did something so drastic.

"Didn't think I knew, did you? Tell me Flora did you find clarity in the face of death?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "Walter don't so this to us, to me, it isn't fair!"

"Fair?" Walter queried turning to look at her. "You say that so often my dear, I wonder what your basis for comparison is? Nothing is fair, it's not fair that we lost our child, and it's not fair that we are loosing each other and I'm fed up of trying to be fair when the world isn't like that. So why don't you just go, leave me alone, stop taunting me with what I'll never have." And with that he turned and walked over to the door opening it wide for her. Flora followed him reluctantly pausing in front of him wanting to find something anything to say that would make things better between them but coming up with nothing, she hesitated her hand reaching out to rest on his chest.

"Don't touch me!" Walter exclaimed his voice laden with emotion as he hid his eyes from her gaze, "Not unless I can touch you back Flora, as you are so fond of saying that isn't fair!" And with that he ushered her through the door closing it firmly behind her.

A while later, the shell-shocked Mrs Ryan and hard-faced Mr Jarvis have been forced into the same room, neither daring to look at the other, as Lady Caroline strides back and forth in front of her father's desk, reeling off her last minute requests in order to make 'everything just perfect'. Its a wonder either of the senior staff heard one word of this drivel, the housekeeper quietly gulping back the tears, head down, the butler standing up tall, hands clasped behind his back, staring straight forward. This contrast was so obvious to even those who would never give their feelings a second thought, as Lady C had already snapped at Flora for looking like a 'wet weekend'. Lord Julian had been a little more gracious, informing her that she did indeed look 'very ill'.

At these comments, Flora dragged her head up and gave a rather wobbly nod, curling her mouth up at the corners for a second, this was the best smile she could muster, before it slipped away.

However, this hushed response didn't satisfy the Earl (who was already on the port, needing a drink as he thought what this blessed party was costing him, let alone the wedding itself), who didn't look up from the paper he was reading. "Mrs Ryan you're not a mute, Lord Julian is kindly enquiring after your health, see to it that you respond in the appropriate manner"

At this prompting, Flora felt extremely embarrassed, she'd never been spoken to in such a condescending way, there had never been any need, as she had always acted with the utmost decorum. This surreal telling off delayed her answering further, consequently, the Earl threw his paper onto the desk, finally looking at her. True, she did look rather pale, but he wasn't going to have discourtesy from his staff. "Mrs Ryan, when you are asked a question, you are expected to reply forthwith….. Whats the matter with you woman, you're normally so proficient!"

As the focus of the room was not on Jarvis, no one noticed his cheeks reddening as he ground his teeth together, he just couldn't help it, furious at his lordship for disparaging Flora so publicly. He shot a look to his left, where Flora stood, mouth open, but no words coming out. Then he scanned the room, the three aristocrats gawping at her, impatient looks on the Earl and his daughter's faces - he couldn't resist jumping in. "Urgh, Mrs Ryan was complaining of a dizziness earlier."  
In unison, all three heads swung round to face him as he continued, quite manner-of-factly "Its nothing a little rest wont alleviate, she has a lot on her mind." emphasising his words towards the end, making sure all present understood this.

"Well if she must, it had better be a quick rest, I simply can't afford to have my housekeeper flittering her time away when she has my rather important social gathering to organise!" Lady C huffed.

At this, Flora eventually shot a look at Jarvis, though it was not one that he had expected. She was livid with him for interfering and asserting his 'male authority' once again- she needed no reminding of the decision he was forcing her to make.

Cut to the grand foyer, where it is now early evening, and the footmen are on stand-by, waiting for the final guests to arrive at this somewhat star studded event. Whilst there wasn't any royalty amongst the crowds, already that evening, they had witnessed the arrival of a number of M.P.s, why the ballroom was a positive who's-who of British politics - mainly Tory of course. By the looks of the guest list, if your surname wasn't double-barrelled, then you simply weren't invited.

The only exceptions to this rule, were those with military honours, indeed, if Taplows was invaded that night, it would have a whole host of Admirals, Commanders and Field Marshals to defend it. These old war heroes were there on Lord Julian's (or rather his father's) request, as were nearly all the other guests, Lady Caroline was obviously moving in higher social circles these days, as Adams could recognise hardly any of them, let alone pronounce their names - which was slightly unfortunate for him, as it was his job to announce the arrivals.

The groom to be's parents, Lord Admiral and Lady Dalrimple-Sykes had been one of the first to arrive. The footmen soon realised that Lord Julian certainly took after his mother, a very petite lady, quiet as a mouse, rather than his father, a strapping (if a little tubby like a walrus) man, with an extremely curly moustache and monocle, dressed in full uniform, complete with tri-cornered hat. As they marched up the steps, their company followed behind, as if still on duty. This mini-regiment consisted of their three other sons and son-in-law (all in navy uniforms, the spitting image of the Admiral, only much younger), escorting their own wives to the ball. After they had disappeared into the reception room, the footmen were left to conclude in their ritual gossiping, that Lord Julian, being the weed he was, wouldn't have lasted beyond the first day of basic training, let alone got anywhere near the helm of a ship. They were all in agreement- he must've been the runt of the litter, probably doted on by his mother, but cast aside by his father when he failed to grasp which was port, and which was starboard from the outset.

At present, Fred and Joe were standing either side of the door to the sitting room, in which drinks were being served before dinner, Will was ferrying everyone's fur and any other type coats from the new arrivals, to the cloak room, George and Johnny were out front, receiving the carriages, and Adams was still struggling to keep pronunciation errors to a minimum.

Cut to the main event itself, with dinner now over, all the guests have been herded into the ball room, where none other than a sixteen-piece orchestra were striking up a rousing baroque symphony. Although this was thought to be highly sophisticated, soon Lady Caroline (shamefully to say a little worse for drink) jumped up and putting on her spoilt little girl tone, announced that they must play a song which one could dance to, before scurrying from table to table, insisting that everyone should participate (no doubt in the Victorian version of YMCA).

Reluctantly, and after a fair few more glasses of champagne, which all five footmen were now offering on trays, Lords and Ladies, Counts and Countesses (and so on, so forth) were shimmying around the dance floor like there was no tomorrow. Lady Caroline had danced with every eligible, and indeed un-eligible man in the room, but had now (after a wise word in her ear from Lady Farquharson) had draped herself quiet comfortably onto Lord Julian, who appeared to be struggling somewhat under the weight.

This fact did not go unnoticed by his father, who was at present drunkenly moaning to Lord Lancaster that his youngest had never been very stocky, and would never have been able to hoist a sail to its full height. The Earl was slumped into one of the arm chairs at the far end of the room, having been given the task of entertaining Lady Dalrimple-Sykes. This was easier said than done, even when sober, as after less than ten minutes, each had exhausted what they planned to say, and were too dull to strike a lasting conversation.

When the champagne began to run low, and people began craving their brandy night-caps, the alcohol distribution was scaled down to only Joe and Johnny. Fred, George and Will had moved to manning the doors, standing their like a trio of bouncers, who had been placed so to make sure people were moving in the right direction towards their rooms.

Adams was stood not too far away, leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on the same vision it had all evening. Though as well as being memorised by her beauty, he was partially blinded with rage as he viewed Lady Farquharson dancing with what appeared to be the son of non other than the current PM, the Earl of Derby. His jealousy was alleviated slightly due to the fact that although she was dancing with another, her gaze hadn't left his in a considerable period of time, however, the image of her being so physically close to another man was not one he would wish to sustain.

Suddenly, this link was shattered, as a woman's shriek let out - "OUCH!"

Theirs' and everyone elses heads turned to see Lady caroline hoping around on one foot. Initially they dismissed, it, she'd always been a contrary so and so, but her out burst did not stop at that. "Oh Julian you klutz! That ruddy well hurt!" she screamed at him, rubbing her left foot.

"Im so sorry my darling" Lord Julian started grovelling and didn't stop repeating himself for quite some time as he tried to grasp her arm to steady her.

"Get off me, get off me, you bumbling idiot!" she huffed at full volume, flapping her arms around to prevent him from doing so. "You're a clumsy brute!" she scolded, her tone now at ear-piercing level.

Far from being disgusted with this display of a man being well and truly under the thumb, their company found the whole thing rather amusing, the women seeing Julian as somewhat of a court jester, whist the men thanking god that it was Julian who was taking her as his wife, and not them.

Whilst the commotion, Rebecca, who had long tired of this farce, all these high and mighty snobs, caught Adam's eye again, giving him a sultry smile, deciding to slip away while she had the chance, making her way through the crowds (who were still being thoroughly entertained by the main event involving the intended pair), towards the door which the footmen surrounded. Initially, to Adams surprise, she appeared to be walking straight past him, and indeed she did, but not without giving him a wink and naughty smile, her eyes saying what she dare not speak, urging him to follow her.

However, this look did not go unnoticed by another member of staff, who concluded that it was for him, and wasted no time in informing his colleagues so. "Did you see the way she just looked at me?" gasped Fred "Pure lust that was"

At this, Adams would normally have gone straight for his jugular, but at present was in a deep daze, staring at the last spot he had seen her, just where George was standing, prompting the rather confused footman to leap out of the way. As the latter did so, suddenly Adams snapped back to reality, walking straight up to Fred.

Remembering where he was, he resisted the urge to wring the little twerp's neck, instead, going for the clever approach. "You must be joking laddie, class like that would never in a million years go for a footman."

"Oh, and I spose she'd go for a butler in training would she!" Fred retorted.

Unwilling to be dragged down from his version of heaven, Adams just stalked past the footmen, whispering in Fred's ear "maybe, just maybe" before he made THE lamest excuse of having to report to Mr Jarvis, and following her out at a distance, with the widest smirk that his face had ever experienced.

Of course the remaining three servants had no idea just how true his words had been, a fact Adams was made blissfully aware of, as he heard behind him, Will of all people doing him a favour in saying "Nah, it's the lady's maid for you mate!" At which he and George launched into a fit of hysterics, and Fred stormed off to do 'FIRST footmen duties', which managed to dampen Will's mood, if only a little.

Meanwhile in the scullery Grace was helping Lizzie finish the washing up before they could go and change for the small servants party being held in honour of the engagement and in recognition of everyone's hard work, at least that was Lord Julian's reason for granting permission. Grace shook her head distractedly, somehow she was far from the party mood but if she didn't attend people would start asking awkward questions, ones that she wasn't prepared to answer. It had been hard enough persuading George that actually she was fine and no Frank hadn't threatened her, well not exactly!

That was the problem, if he had acted the way she had expected then at least she would know where she stood, but he hadn't. There were moments when she thought he was reverting to type, moments when he came far to close to her and the feeling of his breath on her skin had her reaching for the sick bucket. But then he had backed off, had even apologised of sorts, and given her a peace offering, that particular package still sat by her bedside unopened. Had it ended then Grace would not be feeling so churned up as she was, but his comments as she was leaving gave her cause to worry. The way he went on about her and George and the nature of their relationship, Grace knew that was hardly a Taplows secret, but still to hear him say it out loud his trademark leer in place it made her feel cheap and nasty. He had reminded her of the girl she used to be, mocking her by holding her own old standards and beliefs and comparing the person she had become against them.

Grace squirmed slightly and put down the dishcloth she was holding, wiping at her forehead distractedly, disgusting as Franks words were he did have a point compared against the mirror of her own ideals she had been found lacking; and what made things worse was the thought not only would society at large condemn her actions, so would her own family. Her mother had worked hard keeping their family out of gutter after her father's death, and had impressed strongly on her girls the importance of both hard work and chastity, she had promised her mother to live by those ideals when she went into service but now she realised she had broken her word. She couldn't bear it if her mother ever learnt the truth, it wasn't her anger that she was afraid of it was just that pained look of disappointment.

"Grace, Grace! Are you done yet? You've been drying that plate for a full five minutes, I think its dry!" Lizzie snapped, waking Grace out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, I guess I just have a lot on my mind!"

"Humph! Well if you are finished now can we go and get ready, I want to look my best tonight!" Lizzie added cryptically walking towards the door.

"Yes of course!" Grace replied and followed her friend out the door and up to the maids' room; Charlotte had already changed judging by the scattering of clothes on the beds and floor. Suddenly Lizzie's words finally registered with Grace and she looked over to see her friend changing into her nicest dress, the cornflower blue one that brought out the colour of her eyes, and combing her long hair out carefully before artfully arranging it. "Why the need for a good impression Liz?" She asked, having already guessed at the maid's response.

"Oh no special reason…."Lizzie began before trailing off as she lost herself in critically examining her reflection. "Oh Grace, why can't I be pretty like you or elegant like Mrs Ryan or Lady Farquharson? How will he ever notice me, looking like this?" She asked turning her wide eyes to Grace a pleading look on her face.

"Why would you want him to notice you Liz, I thought everything had finished between the two of you?" Grace replied softly.

"Well yes and no, I mean I didn't break up with him, he just said he needed some space…."

"And so you've been ignoring him, like everyone else? Sorry Liz but since our Will isn't a mind reader I doubt he's realised you still like him."

"I didn't mean to, it's just he never looks at me anymore, his eyes just skim over me like I'm part of the furniture, he hasn't found someone else has he?" She asked her voice squeaking in panic.

"Honestly Liz I don't know, Will's been very quiet lately, very few people seem to have anything to do with him the only other woman I've seen give him the time of day is Mrs Ryan and unless she's developing a taste for the younger man I think you're safe." Grace added, her own attention returning to the package in her hands. Sighing she slowly unwrapped the package and then a small cry dropped it into her lap as if it had burnt her.

"Grace, Grace what's the matter?" Lizzie asked as she hurried over to check on her friend.

"Nothing, nothing I'm fine, it was just a surprise."

"Oh their lovely, Grace you're so lucky they must have cost George half his salary?" Lizzie exclaimed as she held up the pair of dainty pearl drop earrings.

"He remembered…." Grace babbled incoherently.

"What, who?" Lizzie asked.

"Frank, I told him years ago how when I was a little girl this lady came and visited our school and I was very young but I remembered she had a pair of delicate little pearl earrings and I went home at told my mama that that was what I wanted from Father Christmas that year and she laughed and told me I'd have to wait a few years. I only told Frank because shortly after I started here I noticed Mrs Ryan had a pair and it

brought that memory flooding back, and he promised me a pair of pearl earrings on the birth of our first child. And now…." Grace trailed off her hands shaking and her eyes filling with tears, "I've already lost my first child."

"There, there Grace" Lizzie added rubbing her hands soothingly up and down the maids back.

Grace picked up her handkerchief and dabbed at her face. "I'm alright Liz, honestly I am they just brought back so many memories."

"Are you going to wear them, to the party I mean?"

"No!" Grace declared, shaking her head vigorously before a strange smile tugged at her mouth, "But you are!"

"Me?" Lizzie exclaimed.

"Yes, you want to stand out, be noticed for your elegance, well these will help!"

"But Grace I can't, you haven't even worn them yet."

"No I haven't and I doubt I ever will. Please Liz do this for me?" Grace added her voice low and wheedling.

"Oh alright then, give them here." Lizzie giggled caving in under her friends gaze and dashing off to the mirror to try them on. "Well?"

Grace laughed, "how can he possibly resist?"

And arm in arm they left the room determined to make the most of their evening.

Once outside, Rebecca pauses, looking back to see if Adams is lurking behind her, but he is nowhere to be seen and she begins to panic that maybe he hadn't taken her hint to follow her. Tutting and rubbing her arms in the brisk night air, she walks a little further out into the darkness, quietly calling his name as the party music fades the further out she walks. Just as she is wondering whether to give up and go back inside, as it is too cold to stand there just for the sake of it, she faintly hears a voice and hurries in its direction, keeping a look-out for prying eyes, until Adams comes into view at the side of the house, hidden in the darkness. He has hardly been near her all night, except once to hand her a drink so he could feel close for just a second and smell her sweet perfume. To see her up close, just now, takes his breath away, and to him she truly looks like a princess.

Her taffeta and satin ball dress is stunning, beautifully made by probably one of the finest dressmakers in Scotland he concludes, with its attractively low neckline, almost off the shoulder, adorned with lace and in a beautiful shade of jade. Her firey red hair is tied back in a bun with small feathers and pearls decorating it, and her face is perfectly shaped with ringlets, her delicate hands sporting exquisite white lace gloves. Clasping her right hand, he raises it to his lips, kissing her knuckles but his gaze never leaving hers. But for the first time he felt completely inadequate - the glove he was touching would cost him a month's wages to buy, and it hit him like a thunderbolt that he would be totally unable to provide for her and her lavish lifestyle, and that their relationship could, in the end, go nowhere. He always knew this was so, but he had never really thought about it until now, he had always been too caught up in the affair to think sensibly.

Adams in a low voice: You look more stunning than ever, Lady Farquharson. 

Rebecca frowning and pouting: Oh, how boring most of those ghastly people are in there. I am so sick of men fawning over me. I dream of turning to them and telling them exactly who it is I love and what they can do with their proposals!

Adams looks at her startled, but Rebecca looks away from him, trying not to catch his eye

Adams gently taking her arm: Who has proposed to you, my love?

Rebecca laughing slightly nervously: Oh, the usual faceless aristocrats, nobody of any significance, and certainly not tonight, they all seemed to keep rather restrained over that sort of talk, which has to be a blessing. 

She strokes Adams' cheek when she sees the look of jealousy and sadness in his eyes and he buries his face in her hand before whispering breathlessly:

Adams: I love you, Rebecca, and I never want to let you go again.

Before she can muster a reply, he leans towards her and kisses her firmly on the lips, pulling her by her petite waist into a passionate embrace, to which she responds eagerly. They emerse themselves in their clinch for a few minutes before Rebecca pulls back, a look of shock on her face

Adams frowning: What...?

Rebecca her eyes darting, putting her finger up to his lips: Shhhhhh!

Suddenly both release each other on hearing two well-spoken male voices heading towards them, Rebecca grabbing Adams by the hand and dragging him around the corner. They both wait silently, up against the wall, Rebecca gathering her skirts in and begging not to be noticed

First voice in a rather loud, brash voice: Well, I tell you, the old boy seems not all there if you ask me. This sorry business is destroying him, it's a damned disgrace.

Rebecca peers round the corner to see two gentlemen strolling along together in their evening suits, smoking cigars and drinking brandy. She recognises them immediately as Viscount Palmerston, and the current Foreign Secretary George Leveson Gower

Palmerston: I quite agree, it must be very distressing for him, I just hope that a turn of events may see this Fiffington-Piffles impostor with the feeling of rough rope around his neck before the end of the year.

Gower as they strode past the two lovers, the darkness preventing them from seeing either of them: Quite. Now I wanted to talk to you about Gladstone...

Adams whispering and indicating: I know where we can go - round to the servants quarters! 

He drags her off, stealth-like, keeping to the side of the house as much as possible. Rebecca giggles with the excitement at being so naughty, her dress so large Adams thinks it a minor miracle that she hasn't been spotted by now, surely it could be seen from outer space, or at least the end of the garden, anyway

Adams on finally reaching the servants courtyard: It's still risky here, but if we were to be discovered I would rather it be by a no-mark servant than the Duke of Marlborough! I want to protect your reputation far more than I want to protect my own, rather battered one.

Rebecca scanning her surroundings, her expression deadly serious: Oh, you cannot tell me for a minute that you are not held in the highest esteem here, surely?

Adams could kick himself, gritting his teeth and shaking his head as his beloved Rebecca looked at him, worried. He had always been surprised that she could see no fault in him, but he had concluded that her good nature did not let her see the bad in people unless it was blatantly obvious or someone had been overtly nasty to her face. He loves that about her, a kind of childish naivety that she will never grow out of, but at the same time being the most sophisticated woman he had ever come across. Not that he came across many in the first place.

Adams shuffling his feet, trying to block thoughts of Lizzie and Will Forest out of his mind : Errr...it's a long story...

Rebecca her confused expression relaxing: Oh, the debt, of course! That is why. You have still to tell me how it was paid. 

Phew, thank goodness for debt, Adams thought rather wryly. He knew this question was going to come, so has an answer already pre-prepared. He hates lying, but how can he tell her that he is indebted to the butler for all eternity? He feels quite bad enough about himself and his inadequacies as a human being without adding to it and possibly losing Rebecca at the same time

Adams attempting to look a little sad: Well, an Aunt, who I had been particularly close to growing up, died a little while ago, leaving me with the bulk of the money she had manage to save during her time in service. I had been her favourite nephew so she had left me her wedding ring to give to the woman I married. Sadly I had to pawn the ring in Tappleton, and give all of the money to the debt collectors.

Rebecca grabbing him and hugging him tight: Oh you poor, poor thing. Don't ever gamble again, please, I couldn't bare you to have to lose anything again.

Adams an ingenius line springing to mind as he takes her arms and looks into her eyes: I am taking a gamble for the second time in my life because I don't want to lose YOU again, my love. 

Rebecca tears beginning to well in her eyes: You should have come to me, I know I don't have access to much while my father is still alive but I have saved up my monthly allowances and I could have helped!

Adams had never seen Rebecca cry before. He presumed she must have done when he left Highlands, but the thought of sad tears staining her beautiful cheeks as she pined for him to return to her had been too much to bear and he had put it out of his mind. Until now. Her bottled up emotions are becoming too much and she sniffles, letting out a small high-pitched squeak as she fishes out a small embroidered handkerchief from her clutch purse. Dabbing under her eyes daintily, she gulps hard as Adams gently pushes her head up from under her chin, wiping away a rogue tear with his thumb

Adams kissing her nose: I am so sorry, I really am. I was a fool to leave you; to leave without a final goodbye and without explaining. All the time I have been here I've thought of you and I have probably taken out my frustrations on others when I shouldn't.

Lady Farquharson rests her forehead on the under-butler's shoulder while he rubs her back soothingly, a guilty knot forming in his stomach about the secrets he is keeping from her. At the back of his mind the loyalty to the other woman in his life was niggling away - maybe he is being selfish and should spend more time with his daughter, to whom he has so much to make up for, instead of his lover? Dismissing these thoughts as best he can, he is about to get to work on Rebecca's bare shoulders when he hears footsteps. Forcing a stunned Rebecca against the wall, he peers out to see Jarvis entering the courtyard, not looking in the best of moods. He expects him to go storming past, ignoring the shadows hiding away from him, but instead he stops dead, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. Damn, thinks Adams, go away damn you! 

Rebecca tugging at Adams' sleeve and whispering: Who...?

Adams turning quickly, wide-eyed: Shhhhh! It's Jarvis!

Adams watches Jarvis puff on his cigar, smoke whisping around his head as he leans back against the wall, obviously in very deep thought. He hangs his head for a couple of minutes, the two lovers desperate for him to leave, then looks up as if somebody has called out for him, throws the cigar on the floor before stamping it out furiously and marching purposefully back into the servants quarters. Adams notes the gritty determination on Jarvis' face and concludes that Mrs Ryan must be in for another ear bashing like during the party briefing, either that or some other poor sod must be going to feel the bad side of the butler's fiery temper.

Adams sighing: He's gone, thank our lucky sporrens!

He turns to Rebecca, who is still up against the wall but is brushing specs of dirt from down her dress. Realising that Isabel maybe wondering where her Lady is, unless she's too busy chasing a particular footman, and that he may soon be missed at the party, Adams moves towards Rebecca to kiss her and tell her he will be along to her room for some fun in a wee while. Lady Farquharson, on seeing him closing in on her, roughly pulls him towards her and locks her lips with his passionately before pulling away slightly, her arms around his neck

Rebecca raising an eyebrow and smiling suggestively: Here. Right now. 

Understanding her few words immediately, Adams looks at her first in amazement but then in amusement. Can she be serious? Here? Outside? He remembers Mrs Stanwick again - they weren't caught, so why the hell not? He runs his finger along the shoulder line of the dress, the look of desperation in Rebecca's eyes to have him there and then increasing. Although the night chill is more biting than that of late, their temperatures begin to rise as they resume their furious kissing, before Adams resolves to attempt to find her as quickly as possible under the most beautiful - and the most multi-layered - dress in the world.

An hour or so later and the footman had finally been excused from their duties and had joined the party, grumbling because they would have been there ages ago had Mr Adams returned from his chat with Mr Jarvis. Fred was the most annoyed as it meant that he as first footman had had to bear the responsibility solely on his broad shoulders, and the sudden pressure had made the lad break out into a cold sweat terrified that he'd get people mixed up and send Lady Trumpton to Lord Swinson's room instead of her own. Fortunately due to the able assistance of Will, who during his stint as under butler had learnt the necessary skills, they were able to pull it off with the minimum amount of hassle and avoiding an international incident.

When they arrived the music was already playing and people had pushed back the tables and were dancing, the new Scottish maid Isobel had been teaching the girls a simple version of the West Highland Fling and everyone was laughing and having a good time. Will wandered over to the corner and badgered Johnny to fill up his tankard, the lad did so but grudgingly barely acknowledging Will's presence. Typical Will thought this is hardly going to be a fun evening with half the staff still not talking to me. He glanced round the room looking for someone to talk to, George and Grace not surprisingly had disappeared off the moment his back was turn, Fred was fending off the advances of the Scottish Selkie, as Isobel was now thought of, so who could he talk to. Over by the buffet Lizzie stood on the outskirts of a group of maids, all of whom were gossiping away, time to work a little of the Will Forrest charm.

"Good evening Ladies, my my don't we all look lovely this evening!" Will announced his eyes roaming over the young lasses but settling on Lizzie, who gave him a small smile of encouragement.

"Why thanks Will!" Spouted out Rosie, one of the kitchen sculleries, as the rest of the girls giggled madly.

"Would one of you lovely creatures honour me with a dance?" Will asked winking at the assembled group.

Lizzie was just about to answer yes when one of the other girls cut her off. "Oh no, we couldn't, could we girls?" Rosie replied looking round the group for the confirming nods.

"Why not?" Will asked, although deep down he knew the answer.

"Well I wouldn't feel safe, I mean dancing with a murderer, I might get tainted by association and you know I have my future to think about and it's not like any sane woman would marry into your family, not unless she had a death wish that is!" Rosie spat back.

"Who said I wanted anything else from you love, I may have rotten family but I'm not crazy enough to want to contaminate it further!" Will retorted angrily his voice rising in volume until unnoticed the music had stopped and everyone was staring at him, but Will didn't notice as Rosie's snide comments had struck a nerve.

The maids all stepped back in fear. "See girls, Johnny was right he does have a violent nature, any woman would have to be suicidal to let you anywhere near her let alone close enough for a dance, why don't you just crawl back under whatever rock you came out from?" Rosie yelled back, her voice carrying out into the corridor before turning and addressing the others, "Come along girls none of us want anything to do with this nutter!" And with that they turned dragging a reluctant Lizzie along with them. She looked back over her shoulder at Will, trying to break free and go over to him, let him know that not everyone felt that way and that if he'd only ask one in particular she would be delighted to join the Forest clan. However just as she was shaking free, something happened that made her mouth drop open and a stab of fear strike her heart.

In the doorway stood a livid looking Mrs Ryan, gone was the elegant quiet housekeeper and in her place was the fiery Irish side of her character that few except Mr Jarvis ever saw. She had obviously been on her way upstairs, having planned on retiring early for the evening, her long black curls normally ensnared in a bun had been let down and delicately framed her face making her look even more beautiful and much younger. Having paused for a moment on the threshold, she then strode purposely into the room and up to Will, who was staring in amazement at the transformation.

"Mr Forest, I seem to have overheard you asking for a dance partner, if I am not jumping the queue may I have the next dance?" She asked her eyes boring directly into Will's ignoring the shocked gasps of amazement from the rest of the assembled staff, as Will nodded mutely and held his hand out the housekeeper.

This settled Flora turned her attention to the motley orchestra, "Well play, this is a party not a wake!" And under her severe gaze they quickly reassembled and began playing a waltz. "No something slightly more cheerful!" Flora demanded, "A polka if you please!" Amazed that the normally distant housekeeper would gatecrash the party let alone dance a jig the players stood there dumb for an instant before another death glare from Flora urged them into action.

As the music began, Will took Mrs Ryan in his arms and began to whirl her round the floor, her curls flying out behind as they went, at first the others were so stunned they just watched the pair as they circled the room, but then the newly returned Grace and George joined them as did Fred who had been literally dragged onto the floor by the ever persistent Isobel. Soon the floor was filled with dancing couples and few people stood on the sidelines. However Lizzie had refused Johnny's offer of a dance and had chosen to perch herself on top of one of the tables from where she could keep her eyes on the couple that was William Forest and Flora Ryan.

Watching them closely brought tears to her eyes, Will had once admitted to her that he had had a crush on Mrs Ryan but he had sworn that those feelings were long gone. However looking at the laughing pair, and watching the way Will's eyes never left the housekeepers face and the way he held her rather closer than most would consider appropriate, she doubted that was true. Blinking back the tears, she wondered why she didn't just leave this was worse than torture, but for some sick reason she couldn't take her eyes off of them, even though every shared laugh and smile and locked gazed felt like she'd been punched in the stomach.

Finally the dance came to an end and Lizzie hoped against hope that the housekeeper would excuse herself and leave. At first this did appear to be the case, she could see Flora trying to edge towards the door, but then as the music struck up once more she saw the housekeepers face relent under Will's persistent wheedling before allowing him to draw her into his arms again this time for a slower number. This she realised she couldn't stand to watch, and so wiping at her eyes made her way towards the door before taking one last look over her shoulder at the pair. They seemed oblivious of everyone else and for once Lizzie felt a rush of jealous anger towards the housekeeper, she already had her man why did she feel the need to ensnare others under her spell? She watched as Will brushed a lock of hair out of Flora's eyes, he seemed to be completely oblivious to anyone watching and the conclusions they would draw, before turning and dashing out into the corridor.

Once out of sight Lizzie let her tears fall and began to run wildly down the corridor, determined to hide away in the maids' room before anyone noticed her absence. As a result she didn't see the figure in the darkness coming round the corner until they collided. Lying on the floor Lizzie squinted up at Mr Jarvis, who was not so distracted that he didn't notice the poor girl on the floor. Leaning down he held out his hand and helped Lizzie to his feet, "Miss Mcduff may I remind you that this is a country house not a racetrack!"

"Yes Mr Jarvis." Lizzie snivelled, her eyes locked on the floor.

"Well well nothing broken, be on your way!..." Then just as Lizzie passed him he asked her, "I don't suppose you've seen Mrs Ryan about, in her office?" His question may have seemed perfectly reasonable but his eyes and his tone of voice made Lizzie step back, there was such an element of desperation in them that she had never seen before and she could have sworn she caught a whiff of brandy on his breath. For a moment she considered pretending she didn't know, after all it would just upset Jarvis, but then the image of Flora laughing in Will's arms, where by rights she should be, flashed before her eyes and before she could stop herself she had spat out, "Yes I have!"

"Well where is she?"

"She's at the party!" Lizzie mumbled immediately regretting her words as they tumbled from her lips, a pervading feeling of doom overcoming her as she realised the fuse she had just lit.

"What the devil is she doing there?" Jarvis expounded, not really asking Lizzie, but the maid attempted an answer.

"Well I imagined she just popped in to keep an eye things….."

"Well she had no business being there tonight we had made plans, damn her she's doing this on purpose…." Jarvis growled his face turning red with anger as he stormed off towards the lower servants' hall a concerned Lizzie pausing momentarily before dashing off after him.

Jarvis's blood was pounding in his ears, damn her damn her to hell, had she taken nothing he had said this afternoon seriously or did she mistakenly think she could avoid their discussion simply by hiding off with the lower servants. Yes that must have been it, she was obviously trying to put off having to make her decision, thinking that Jarvis would not dare berate her in front of the others, well that was a miscalculation on her part if necessary he would drag her out of there by her hair.  
Suddenly he had reached the doorway but stopped dead at what he saw, his beloved Flora dancing with that scum William Forest, the footman's hands were all over her holding her tightly against him and Jarvis felt his blood boil.

Storming across the room scattering dancing couples in his wake he reached the pair who upon seeing him paused mid step but did not separate, Will's hand still paused mid air from brushing back her hair from her face, this level of intimacy only seemed to confirm Walter's deepest suspicions.

"You bd!" Jarvis yelled his left fist flying towards Will landing plum on the Footman's jaw knocking him squarely off his feet. As soon as he landed heavily on his back Jarvis moved forward his fist raised to land another blow on his fallen opponent.

"Walter stop please!" Flora yelled her hands reaching out futilely to restrain the enraged butler, settling for locking her arms round one of his and trying to anchor him still long enough for the other footmen to get Will out of danger. But Jarvis shook her off as if she was nothing more than slight irritant and managed to land another punch on Will, this one on his nose which broke with a sickening crack.

Hearing this Flora flung herself in between the two men, standing protectively over Will refusing to let Walter push her aside, "Walter stop please, it's not what you think!"

But Jarvis was beyond reason and when he couldn't shake her off he raised his hand and Flora flinched in horror as he let it fly. However fortunately for her mere moments before Mr Adams had arrived back and seeing the situation had pushed himself through the crowd, arriving just in time to restrain Jarvis knocking Flora off her feet and out the way. When she realised the blow was not going to fall Flora slowly and shakily got to her feet, ignoring the shocked and disgusted faces of those around her, the rumours about the violence in their relationship once more being whispered around the room. "Walter please calm yourself, it was nothing just a dance it didn't mean anything."

"Lies, all lies!" Walter hissed shaking off Mr Adams and reaching out and grabbing her wrists pulling her against him, "All this time all I thought you needed was a push in the right direction and given time you'd come around, but now I find out the truth. How long as it been going on? Ever since that kiss that you said meant nothing? Tell me love how long have you been moonlighting with our young Adonis here? Weeks, months, who knows may be that baby wasn't even mine, I never seriously considered Felix a likely candidate but young Mr Forest now there's a possibility. I suppose you thought you could carry it on now, after all if you got pregnant you could always condone to visit my bed and then pass it off as mine once more."

"How can you even think that? I'd never do that, I couldn't."

"Well believe me that is not going to happen this time!" He retorted icily and seizing her elbow began to frogmarch her towards the door. "I gave you the choice and you blew it Flora, I think it's about time you learnt your lesson."

Flora realising what he meant began to struggle and called out for help and suddenly the doorway was blocked by Mr Adams and the other footmen, even the beaten Will got unsteadily to his feet to join the blockade.

"Get out of my way, all of you!" Jarvis bellowed.

"I'm sorry sir!" Adams replied shrinking back a little under the intensity of the butler's glare. "You may leave if you wish but I suggest Mrs Ryan remains behind."

"You really think I'm going to leave her here with him?" Jarvis snorted pointing derogatorily at Will a look of disgust on his face. "I would thought you of all people would understand Mr Adams, what's mine is mine and no one else has any business touching my things, let alone my wife."

"I'm not your wife!" Flora spat at him icily. Then reaching down to her left hand she removed his ring that had lain there safely for so long and wrenching her arm free flung it at the stunned butler. "You forced me into making a choice all or nothing you said, well I choose nothing I don't want you anywhere near me ever again. You lost Walter, we both have; I just hope you're happy now!" And with that she turned and ran out the door ignoring the shocked and surprised expressions.

Jarvis on the other hand stood stock still gazing in despair after her fleeing form unable to follow. Instead his eyes returned to the flagstone floor and to the little band of gold and sapphire that lay lost and alone, twinkling in the darkness. Slowly he bent down and picked it up, his hands trembling and he staggered like a man mortally wounded closely followed by the watchful Mr Adams as he made his way to his office where he slammed the door in his under butler's face. Slumping down into his chair as tears threatened to overwhelm him he placed the ring down on the desk and reached for the remaining bottle of brandy, not bothering with a glass he downed it straight from the bottle wishing that he could drown within its amber depths, the whole purpose of his existence seemed meaningless without her by his side. He had gambled and lost, there was nothing left worth living for and slowly he reached out and picked up the ring enclosing it tightly in his fist before slumping over his desk and sobbing uncontrollably. 

Adams is completely stunned when Jarvis slams the door in his face, nearly flattening his nose in the process. In fact he is completely stunned with the butler's behaviour altogether. He doesn't really have a problem with him thumping Will Forest, although it hadn't been at all in the much more subtle style that he himself would have used. Hitting him in front of the staff was probably not the smartest of moves, he concludes, but lashing out and hitting Mrs Ryan? Hitting a woman? That is most definitely not on. Still, he realises that it is better to leave him to consider the merits of a substantial amount of alcohol in the blood, a trick that had worked for Adams many a time in the past, so turns on his heels and stalks off back down the corridor, glancing at his pocket watch. He curses himself for his lateness, Rebecca had hinted before they had parted that she is most definitely up for the 'naughty sailors' role play tonight – one of his favourites – and if he doesn't get a move on he may have to wait longer than he anticipated. Suddenly, an unexpected thought – or rather memory – comes to mind and he stops, pondering for a moment. He doesn't recall seeing his daughter at the party, and in all the commotion he hadn't had chance to think about asking anyone where she was. Glancing at his pocket watch again, he chews his bottom lip in deep concentration before resolving to quickly find her and check she is alright. Another murmur of guilt is creeping into his consciousness and he feels it his duty to take her wellbeing into account before returning to the open arms of his upper class lover. Hurrying his pace, he makes his way to the maid's quarters. No doubt, he thinks, the other maids will be fussing over Will – Lizzie herself is probably there at the front, soothing him with their words and warm towels, but he felt it best just to make sure Lizzie hasn't retired to bed early……….

Adams stops at the door, which is open just a crack, and he frowns when he hears a muffled blubbing and sniffing coming from inside. Unsure whether it is Lizzie, he squints through the gap to get a better view, noticing a shaking form on one of the nearside beds. Recognising the skirts instantly as Lizzie's, he pushes the door open instinctively, standing there momentarily before daring to speak.

Adams softly: Elizabeth? What's wrong?

Lizzie looks up from crying soundly into her pillow, her eyes red and her baby cheeks flushed, her hair plastered with tears to the side of her face. Her expression is contorted into one of hurt and desperation as she sits up, roughly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand while she catches her breath, her eyes meeting her father's but full of coldness and distance.

Lizzie beginning to sob again: Father, just leave me! I don't want to talk!

Adams steps forward slightly, concerned but also feeling the frustration beginning to build. It doesn't seem that she is going to make this easy for him, but a pang of fatherly compassion overcomes him and he reaches out to touch her shoulder

Adams: But who has upset you?

Lizzie burying her face in her pillow again: You wouldn't understand, please leave me alone!

The realisation suddenly hits him, the concern being replaced by anger as his fists clench tightly. Not only did it seem that the irresponsible footman in question had been trying to get inside Mrs Ryan's bloomers, but he has hurt his only daughter in the process, and he isn't about to stand for some inconsequential lower servant making a fool of her.

Adams in a low, dangerous voice: William Forest.

Lizzie stares up at her father, her bloodshot eyes wide and pleading. She cannot deny to him that Will had made her cry, that his almost boyish interest in Mrs Ryan had got to her and she had to flee the party before making a show of herself. Her breathing quickens as she attempts a smile, but by now the ringing in Adams' ears is getting louder and louder

Adams moving towards the door: Bloody William Forest, the little beggar!

Lizzie shaking her head: Father no, it's nothing, really, I'm fine, please don't go and………

Adams ignores her completely, storming out of the room, Lizzie's cracked voice calling out to him to come back, she could talk to him now, but there is little point in her even trying.

It is easy for Adams to find Will – as he predicted, maids are fussing around him, patching up his nose, but the room is hardly full of chatter and tales of heroics, with George and the other footmen nowhere to be seen. Will is slumped in a chair, staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the wall, his only reaction is to flinch every so often when his nose is touched by Charlotte and a damp flannel. Adams watches him for a moment, the maids only giving him a cursory acknowledgment, and none of them asking after Jarvis. Moving round to face Will, he crouches until he catches the footman's emotionless stare, but Will only looks down at the floor, willing him to leave him alone.

Adams standing and clapping his hands: Right, lassies, everybody out, it's way past your bedtimes and the fun's over. I'll look after Mr Forest from here, I'm sure he's had enough female attention for one exciting night!

Will grits his teeth, desperate not to show the under-butler a single shred of emotion and determined not to let him get to him. He is tired, confused and probably out of a job, so Adams' smug grin is most certainly able to push him over the edge if he is provoked. The maids scatter out of the room, gossiping quietly, as they head to their beds to chatter some more about the accusations Jarvis threw at the housekeeper that night.

Adams legs apart and arms folded: So, Mr Forest. Been having it away – or should I say TRYING to have it away – with Mrs Ryan, have you?

Will doesn't respond, slumping forward in the chair and shutting his eyes, his nose throbbing and feeling very, very sorry for himself. Adams huffs on receiving no reply, kicking Will's leg forcefully and causing the footman to wail in pain

Adams leaning towards him: Well?

Will mumbling quietly: Well what?

Adams roughly pulling Will up out of the chair: Come on, on your feet!

Adams slams Will hard up against the table, but the footman shrugs him off, about to push him back but good sense preventing him from doing so. Instead he looks at Adams with distain on his face and pain in his eyes, but the under-butler is in no mood to give him sympathy as he prowls round him, giving him no space to make a run for it

Will dabbing blood from his nose: What has it got to do with you, or are you just sticking your nose in just so you can have a go! Any opportunity, isn't that right, Mr Adams!

Adams closing in on him and hissing in his face: I think you know exactly what my interest is in this, Mr Forest. While you're busy getting the housekeeper up the duff you're making an idiot out of my daughter! Suddenly got bored of her did you?

Will knows anything he says to Adams will be twisted and thrown back in his face, but nevertheless he had to try. Staggering round from the table, he rinses his hands and face in a jug of water as dizziness from the punch sets in and a wave of nausea overcomes him

Will trying not to be sick: I haven't done a thing with Mrs Ryan, not that it's any of your business, and I still feel for Lizzie! She's been a good friend and….

Adams spinning him round, the jug toppling and spilling everywhere: I don't want you 'feeling' anything, especially Elizabeth, do you understand! Stay away from her, this is your only warning - she doesn't love you, she doesn't even LIKE you any more, she told me herself!

Will rage and spite filling his voice: You're just worried about how it reflects on YOU, you don't give a toss about Lizzie! What do you know about love and feelings, when was the last time any woman took the slightest bit of interest in you, Mr Adams!

Adams paces in front of him for a moment, before swinging round and to Will's surprise smiling wickedly.

Adams: Well, wouldn't you like to know? I may be getting laid every night for all you know, so you should watch your tongue you snivelling little…….

Will laughing mockingly, his face still dripping with water and blood: Oh yes, I'm sure, off into town regularly are we? Must be the only way, unless you've got some poor Taplows girl on the go! A quick one in the scullery, is it!

Adams pointing accusingly: Look, you should be grateful I didn't let Jarvis finish the job in there, but I'm quite willing to do it for him, and the way he is at the moment I don't think he could care less! In fact he may welcome your untimely absence from Taplows!

Will propping himself up on the wall: So why did you stop him, eh! Why didn't you just let him beat me to a bloody pulp like you're used to doing!

Adams: I did it for Mr Jarvis, certainly not for you! He's a good man driven to the brink by a dirty worm like you, and he's better than that!

Will: You never do anything for anybody else! Wanted to be the hero did you so you could impress the prostitutes in town and get some money knocked off the going rate? Although you're so tight you probably only use the cheap ones, see how far a few pennies can stretch, ain't that right!

But before Will can spit out any more hate and accusations, Adams flies at him and thumps him hard in the stomach, causing him to double over and groan in agony. Lucky for Adams that he is able to jump out of the way, just before Will gags then vomits all over the floor, collapsing next to it almost in tears

Adams shaking his head, a sly smile on his face: God, you repulse me, Mr Forest. I suggest you clean up your filth then make your way to your pit before you make any more mess tonight, who knows tonight may be the last one you spend under this roof!

Will doesn't reply, curled up on the floor, the tears beginning to well in his eyes as he coughs and splutters, his stomach churning. Adams kicks a bucket towards him, catching Will on the arm and giving him a nasty bruise.

Adams heading towards the door: Not even your colleagues want to know you, you're too revolting even for George Cosmo. Oh, and use that bucket to clean up, although you may want to throw up IN IT next time.

With a cursory, disgusted glance, he exits, leaving the sorry footman to drag himself up off the floor, alone and ostracised by everyone he loves and cares for.

Damn that William Forest,thinks Adams as he hurries quietly up the main stairs towards Rebecca's bedroom. It is one o'clock in the morning and his only thought is to blame Will for his lateness, rather than blaming his own temper, as he approaches her door,glancing from side to side for any sign of a wandering Lady Mary. Not that anyone would believe a word she said if she DID see him – what, a keen-looking under-butler entering the room of the stunning Lady Farquharson at one am? That's more unbelievable than Jarvis being her late Algernon. The Earl would probably have her sent to an asylum or worse have her locked in her room, but if he saw Adams himself, well, he doubts even the charms of Lady Rebecca could prevent his dismissal. He had thought it best to carry a glass of water with him just in case,at least then he would have some excuse for being there,although if he were spotted every night with one the Earl may urge Rebecca to see the doctor in case her thirst means she is developing a fever.

Knocking his 'code knock', or three taps – a pause – then another, he then enters without being called, slipping round the door and shutting it quietly but tightly immediately. To his surprise the lamps are out, and candles are placed around the room and around her bed, creating a romantic glow that makes him feel instantly amorous. Moving quietly over to her bed, he sees to his absolute delight her lying there on top of the white silk sheets, looking more attractive and sexy than he has ever seen her before. Sadly, however, she is fast asleep. Leaning on one of the four posts, Adams watches her breathe gently. He knew she had obtained a 'special outfit' that he had never seen, one which she had bought out of her allowance when she was in Paris a few months back visiting a particularly wealthy relative, in the hopes that her and Adams would meet again. It was purchased from one of France's top designers and is as yet still unavailable to the general (extremely rich) public, and he realises straight away that this must be it. It is a beautiful satin corset, bright red, and decorated with fancy black lace and beading – it is quite unlike one he has seen (not that he saw that many, he confesses to himself), as it is laced up the front and covers the chest further up than the current fashion. Because of this, she has only loosely tied the ribbon at the top, obviously to tease him, and he can't help but admit that it has worked. Smiling, his eyes wander over her, her legs smooth in black silk stockings held up by the suspender straps of the corset (another new look Adams hadn't seen before, even in magazines) and her long hair seductively draped over her shoulders.

Not wanting to startle her, Adams moves along the bed until his eye catches the Captain's Naval uniform draped over a chair ready for him to wear, so he chuckles to himself, climbing off the bed and picking it up.

A few minutes later, he is fully changed, and although he feels rather awkward dressed up, he is doing it for Rebecca and anyway he realises that he is possibly about to get a better time than usual out of it. Perching himself on the side of the bed, he reaches out and strokes her hair, running the tips of his fingers gently down her bare arm before leaning forward towards her face. He stops momentarily to gaze at her voluptuous lips, apart slightly and perfectly formed, tinted with a dark red lipstick, before kissing them tenderly. Moving slightly, Rebecca reaches up and pushes his head down, kissing him back passionately for a moment or two before suddenly her eyes fly open and she shoves him off, sending him flying with a thud half way across the room.

Adams gulping hard: What's the matter with you!

Rebecca sitting up and pouting: You're late! Very, very late!

She folds her arms, staring hard at him and frowning as the under-butler staggers to his feet, brushing down his 'uniform'

Adams looking pitiful: I know, I know, and I'm sorry, let me explain……..

Rebecca climbing roughly under the sheets and pulling them up to her neck: I don't know why you're wearing that, there's little point now! What the hell were you doing?

Adams: It was……..

Rebecca hardly listening: You are two hours late, Andrew, I DO NOT like being stood up, especially by a…..by a…… She tails off, thinking better of it and turning her face into her pillow

Adams his expression hardening, knowing exactly what she meant: By a what, Rebecca?

There is a short silence before Adams, knowing that she has every right to be angry, tries to reason with her again, telling her exactly why he is late and hoping for forgiveness so he can get some action and out of the uniform as soon as possible. He decides not to tell her about Jarvis and Mrs Ryan, as well as the obvious. Why on earth would he want to shatter her innocence and tell her exactly what sort of things go on downstairs?

Adams: Look, I'm sorry. It was Lady Mary, she went walk-about again in the gardens and Jarvis and I had to catch her. Please don't mention it to the Earl and Lady Caroline, neither of them know anything about it and they would be just devastated. And with the Earl in his current disposition………

Lady Rebecca huffs, sitting up again but with an expression on her face that she may be relenting and giving in to his tale. Phew, Adams thinks, she must be even more naïve than he thought.

Rebecca looking sympathetic as she lies back: Oh, the poor dear, she really is a little strange now

Adams feigns a sorry nod, but then Rebecca's expression turns sultry as she runs her finger suggestively along her bottom lip, her eyes urging him to come to her. Adams lets out a low growl, rubbing his hands together as if he is about to eat the tastiest meal of his life then practically leaping onto the bed in a fever of anticipation.

Rebecca purring naughtily: So Captain Adams, tell me about your big adventures, your war stories and how you have rescued fair maidens from the hands of pirates.

Adams running a hand across her thigh: How we beat those Frenchies you mean?

Rebecca giggling, sliding down the bed and letting Adams' hand roam: Or, I could give you a little surprise.

Adams raises an eyebrow suggestively, toying with the ribbon of her corset, but before he can take their intimacy to the next stage Rebecca clasps his hand and rolls him on his back, kissing him then sliding off the bed.

Rebecca urgently: I need your trousers. And your long johns.

Adams, not needing to be told twice, grins cheekily as he strips off his bottom half, and in no time at all he is throwing them on the floor.

Rebecca licking her lips and posing sexily: Now, close your eyes Andrew, no peeking now.

He does as he is told, and it is perfectly obvious what he may be expecting and that he is certainly most excited at the prospect

Rebecca desperate not to laugh: keep them closed, you naughty, naughty sailor!

Quietly yet swiftly, Rebecca scoops up all Adams' discarded clothing and hurries over to the window. Adams, blissfully unaware and thinking he may very well be in for a treat, frowns a little when he hears the window opening

Adams smiling slyly: Well Rebecca I didn't know I got you so hot and bothered!

Rebecca laughing wickedly: Oh Andrew you know you do, and you know I can't resist a man in uniform. Shame you're only wearing half of it! Open your eyes!

Adams does as he is told, but it is not the sight of an unlaced corset that meets his eyes but a smug looking Lady holding all of his clothes out of the window ready to let go

Adams wide-eyed: What the hell are you doing! I've got to get back to my room yet!

Rebecca leaning further out: Well you should have thought about that before standing me up!

Adams moving off the bed, exasperated: I told you what happened, Lady Mary...!

Rebecca tutting and rolling her eyes: Yes, yes, I know! You must think I was born yesterday, that I'm some silly rich girl who will believe anything she's told!

Adams not taking his eyes off his clothes: No that's not true! Come on Rebecca, don't be foolish!

Rebecca is by now getting cold as a huge draught sweeps through the bedroom, billowing the curtains out and causing Adams to shiver

Rebecca looking tearful, her lip trembling: I know what you've been up to! What you've been doing and lying to me about!

Adams' heart begins to pound quickly, blood rushing to his ears. How on earth could she? Had she followed him? Surely not

Rebecca almost spitefully: You've been having so much fun at the servants party you had forgotten all about me, left me lying here in frustration as you down your ale or whatever it is you people drink!

Adams relieved on one hand but a little hurt on the other: Is that what you think of 'us people', as you put it? That all we do is get drunk and have wild parties?

Adams suddenly frowns – yes, she seems to have it quite accurately portrayed, actually – but then he looks back up at her and realises that she actually is about to throw all his clothes out of the window, and that he will have to run round Taplows naked at approximately 1.30 am trying to reclaim his attire without waking anybody up. In a last-ditch attempt to change her mind, he smiles and decides to try to charm her out of it

Adams winking and moving over to her: Please, darling, don't do this. I love you, I didn't forget I promise, things just overran a little and Mr Jarvis needed me to keep the drunken footmen in order, that's all. I kept looking at my pocket watch the whole time.

He slips his arm around her tight, satin waist and brushes his lips against her cheek and down her neck. Still she kept the clothes out of the window, a small smile on her face as Adams tries to ignore the cold while kissing her exposed skin and down as he unlaces her

Rebecca shaking her head slowly: Oh I don't think so, Andrew.

Adams quickly tries to grab her arms, pulling them in, but she is stronger than he remembers and she manages to push back forcefully, so much so that he is taken by surprise and to the shock of both of them the clothes leave Rebecca's grip and plummet to the ground below. Both put their heads out of the window, gasping as two pairs of trousers, two pairs of long johns, a vest, a shirt, a jacket, a waistcoat and a neck tie quietly thud on the gravel. There is a short silence as both absorb the implications of this, Adams shutting the window and Rebecca sits on the bed

Adams hands on hips, a sour look on his face: Well, there's only one thing for it. You'll have to get dressed again and go and get them for me.

Rebecca snorting in contempt: Er, I don't think so. There is no way I could explain my presence wandering downstairs in the middle of the night, I'm not risking it.

Adams throwing his arms in the air: Well I certainly can't go like this!

Rebecca suddenly starts to snigger, then puts her hand over her mouth as she looks at her lover, laughing hysterically as she points at his current state, as if the humour of the situation has only just occurred to her. She falls back on the bed, her whole delicate frame wracked with laughter. Adams finds this a little annoying at first, but then kind of infectious so in the end he is laughing nearly as hard as she is, flopping next to her until both have exhausted themselves. For a second, neither of them move, until Adams sits up and leans over her, gazing deeply into her sparkling eyes. Rebecca gently murmurs 'kiss me', but before she can even finish he has locked his lips with hers, determined not to let her 'outfit' go to waste that night, even if it did mean leaving it a while before reclaiming his clothing. Rolling on top of her, he threads his fingers through hers, ready to finally get what he came to her room for………..

A little while later, Adams has almost forgotten about his clothes as the two sit in bed chatting and laughing and drinking champagne. This is how it is supposed to be, Adams thinks, living like the other half, lying in a large, warm, comfy bed with a beautiful, wealthy woman, drinking what only the rich can afford. He sighs as Rebecca strokes his hair, but suddenly they begin to hear a rustle outside, then a kind of growling noise. Adams sits bolt upright, his eyes wide, then jumps out of bed and runs over to the window.

Adams a little more loudly than he intended: My clothes! A fox is chewing up my clothes!

Rebecca startled: A fox? Oh dear!

Adams dashing round the room, throwing on the top half of his 'uniform' again: Quick, give me something to put on!

Rebecca frowning and shrugging: Like what! I don't have any trousers, surprisingly!

Adams throwing open her cupboards in desperation: Anything, I don't care – drawers, yes give me a pair of your drawers!

Rebecca climbing out of bed and putting on her dressing gown: They won't fit you! And anyway you won't find them in there, stop throwing my things on the floor, how would I explain this to Isobel!

Adams is now frantic, the only thing on his mind being that if his under-butler uniform is wrecked Jarvis would surely murder him, especially in his current mood, either that or he would have his wages seriously docked AGAIN. Like a man possessed he starts searching through her closet until she blocks him, a look of fury on her face, holding up a fresh pair of her drawers

Rebecca her voice stern: Goodness knows how you're going to get into these, and how I will explain their absence to Isobel, but take them and hurry up

Adams snatches them off her, roughly climbing into them until there is a tearing noise. Nevertheless he manages to pull them up, his legs stretching them to their limit, and Rebecca can't help but stifle a laugh

Adams huffing, looking down at himself and hissing: You didn't tell me that drawers are bleedin' crotchless!

Rebecca sniggering: Yes, I've always wondered why you feel the need to pull them down during our intimate moments, my sweet!

Rebecca doubles over again at Adams, as he awkwardly walks over to the door, gives her one last disapproving look as she giggles mercilessly at his misfortune, then exits. She could have given him a petticoat instead, but it is too late as he has gone, tip-toeing as fast as possible through the main house, past all the bedrooms containing some of the most important people in the country, and down towards the back of the house. Far better to exit there than through the front door! It takes him a couple of minutes to wrestle his long johns from the grip of the fox's jaw, tugging away and nearly falling backwards as the fox growls and hangs on for dear life. Good job the Earl isn't there, he muses, although he'd shoot the fox as soon as look at it, he'd probably think it best to shoot Adams as well and put him out of his misery. He sees Rebecca at the open window, no doubt thinking he deserves it, and finally after a lot of scuffling the fox runs off, thankfully with only a sock as its prize.

Rebecca waving her arms at him: Hurry! Someone will see!

Adams roughly scoops up his clothing, the drawers nearly completely split, and runs bare foot back to the servants quarters, desperate to get back to his room which now seems very far away. As he struggles along the corridor, is mind focused on getting back, his heart suddenly leaps into his throat and he freezes. Jarvis has appeared right in front of him. The drunken butler squints at Adams, looking him up and down as he sways slightly. He almost chuckles to himself, staring down at the nearly empty bottle in his hand, then back at Adams, then down at the bottle again. He rubs his eyes, then scratches his forehead, completely confused at this hallucination before him.

Jarvis shaking his head disbelievingly and slurring: Gosh, this is strong stuff!

He then frowns at a very still and stunned under-butler before staggering round, using the wall for support, and wobbling off in the other direction on his way to the bathroom. Adams breathes again, letting out a long sigh. Thank goodness for drink, he thinks, hurrying quickly to his room. If this is what Lady Farquharson did to him over standing her up, what on earth would she do if she ever found out about his most recent – and much more distant – past!


	3. Episode 3

The next morning dawned wet and misty, the sun struggled desperately to break through the thick cloud and failed miserably, seeming to give up entirely and leave the rolling hills and all their inhabitants to suffer alone. Many of the guests were awake and preparing to leave, the courtyard was crammed full of horses and carriages, coachmen hung around corners in large groups sharing jokes and stories, swigging out of hip flasks and smoking pipes to keep out the cold. In the midst of all this one figure alighted from a small pony and trap, assisted by her driver she retrieved her luggage, squinting up against the rain for her first real glimpse of Taplows. Ignoring the groups of people assembled outside she made her way towards the side entrance, artfully dodging the young porters who were dashing backwards and forwards carrying trunk after trunk.As soon as she entered the house the hustle and bustle seemed to double with footmen and maids all scurrying about like ants all intent on their own task at hand and not giving the diminutive white haired lady a second glance. Had they looked closer they might have noticed something's that seemed familiar, a certain pair of blue eyes and the confident determined attitude. The pervading sense of here was a person with an ability to cope with anything life could through at her; even the way she held herself would scream out to the more observant amongst the servants, here was a person used to authority, not a person to dismiss, not unlike their own butler.

For a moment she was forced to stand back against the wall as a group of footmen manoeuvred a particularly large and heavy trunk, but it was the topic of their conversation rather than the footmen themselves that caught her interest.

"I still can't believe it!" George reiterated for the umpteenth that morning.

"Well believe it mate, there is no way they're getting back together now, not after last night! Who'd have thought Jarvis was the violent type eh?"

"Well Lizzie, did say…." Johnny began but he was cut of sharply by the first footman.

"Alright Johnny, she's not anywhere around mate, might as well save your chance to suck up!" Fred retorted teasing the young lad for his now obvious crush on the young Scottish maid. "I must admit for the first time ever I was glad Adams was around, not that I couldn't of handled it!" Fred added puffing out his chest as the others sniggered.

"Then how come you didn't step in earlier then mate?" George asked a sly glint in his eye.

"It was shock, I mean I didn't expect Jarvis to start in on Will like that, but I'd never have thought he turn on Mrs Ryan!" Fred back peddled quickly.

"I think he got paid back in full!" George added a solemn expression looking out of place on his normally cheerful face.

"Yeah the look on his face when she threw the ring back, total shock, I've never seen him like that completely lost for words unable to move or anything!"

The lads were so engrossed in their idle gossiping that they didn't notice Mr Adams come round the corner, his face contorting into a malicious grimace when he spotted the lads slacking off.

"What do we have here? Come on lads move your rotten carcasses, its not like I don't have enough to do without having to keep a eye on all of you lots, dealing with all our guests and stemming the tide of malicious gossip!"

"We were just…" Fred began.

"Oh I know what you were doing laddie, but I'm telling you know, it stops right here not one more word about it from any of you or I'll dock your wages… or if you'd prefer I could inform Mr Jarvis when he surfaces and let him deal with you personally?" He asked grinning broadly at their pained expressions and their quickly mumbled accessions. "Well then be on with you!" And with that the lads hurried off out into the rain dragging their burden along behind them.

Slowly the figure in the shadows remerged, a decidedly worried expression on her face. As they moved through the corridors their expression of worry turning to one of determination and as one of the sculleries was passing, she suddenly found her arm being jarred out of its socket as she been caught in the surprisingly iron grip of this petite old lady. "Excuse me deary!" She asked, her soft sweet voice containing the unmistakable air of command, "But I was wondering where can I find your butler Mr Jarvis?"

"Urgh!" Grunted the maid incoherently; "you could try his office it's just down the hallway, through the next door on the left and then the first door on the right!"

"Thank you my dear!" The stranger added, the finality of her tone indicating the girl could go about her business now, as she swept past her and down the hall.

The office was not hard to find but it was not what she had been expecting. The place was a complete mess, as if someone had been searching for something but had been adopting the search and destroy methodology. The desk was the only thing that had been left upright however it had not escaped the maniac as drawers had been pulled out and their contents dumped in piles on the floor, the chairs were overturned and everything had been pulled of the shelves and almost thrown across the room. However there was no sign anywhere of this elusive butler and by now she was starting to worry, piecing together the information she had gained from the footmen's gossiping. Just what mess had her son got himself into this time?

Sighing deeply to herself Emily Corey wandered further into her son's office, her eyes taking in the full extent of the devastation before her. This just seemed to confirm her worst fears, that her son had indeed suffered some sort of breakdown, first his letters and now this, attacking people and ransacking his own office. Shaking her head slowly as if in disbelief she sank slowly to the floor when a twinkle of light caught her eye, kneeling down behind the desk she pushed the papers aside and seized the item, pulling out her own spectacles she examined it closely, an engagement ring. Engrossed in her own silent ponderings she didn't notice the other figure at the doorway, nor at first did Flora notice her; the housekeeper's attention was fixed firmly on the devastation before her. Flora's expression ranging wildly from fury to worry to tearful distress than back to anger, then as Emily stood up Flora whirled round to stare accusingly at the stranger before her.

"Who the hell are you and what do you think you are doing here, this is a private office you have no business being in here!"

"Oh don't I!" Emily countered, her own temper rising at the prospect of being reprimanded and ordered about by someone she considered a mere slip of a girl. "I was looking for Mr Jarvis, he is the butler here and this is his office, therefore it is the natural place to start looking!"

"Well you can wait outside!" Flora snapped and marched over to the interloper prepared to remove her by force if necessary, but just as she was about to seize her by the arm Flora's gaze fell on the ring still tightly gripped between the woman's fingers. "How did you!" Flora began, "Give that to me!" She demanded holding out her hand for her ring, which Emily reluctantly handed over, a curious expression on her face as she began to examine Flora more closely.

As soon as the ring was in Flora's palm she closed her hand around it before bringing it up close to her face and partly unclenching her fist, gazing at the ring through her fingers as fresh tears sprang to her eyes.

"You must be Mrs Ryan?" Emily stated quietly rather than asked, her eyes softening slightly as she beheld for the first time the woman who was supposed be marrying her son. Flora simply nodded and wandered over to the window, wrapping her other arm round her waist hugging herself protectively as she tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall.

For a moment neither woman spoke, Flora staring blankly out the window trying to gain a handle on her turbulent emotions, whilst Emily was content to stand back and study first hand the lady she had heard so much about. She was beautiful on that she agreed with her son, although not in a flashy way, which as a mother she was pleased about she didn't need any Helen of Troy in her family. One thing her son had neglected to mention was the fiery temper, but then again considering Walter that wasn't surprising, it wasn't something he would dwell on, but Emily considered it a definite advantage. It took a certain type of woman to be able to handle the Corey men, they were so stubborn and set in their ways that a more shy and retiring woman would be completely snowballed by them; no her son needed a woman with backbone and for once he appeared to have chosen well.

"It's such a mess." Flora sighed softly, talking more to herself than to her guest.

"Well then we'd better get it cleaned up, I know my Walter he was such a messy child but its nothing a determined woman couldn't sort out!" Emily replied a small smile pulling at her lips as an astonished Flora whirled round to face her.

"You, who, how…" Flora gasped staggering across the room.

Emily smiled broadly at the housekeeper's obvious confusion, "I didn't have the chance to introduce myself before, I'm Mrs Corey, but you can call me Emily."

"Mrs Ryan, the housekeeper...Flora." The housekeeper replied all in one breath, her eyes locked on the diminutive lady in front of her gauging her reaction, but all Emily did was smile kindly.

"Yes dear, I had guessed that, you, well you do look like your description and that I heard many times over Walter was most insistent." Emily replied, tailing off as she beheld the increasingly nervous woman in front of her, Flora had looked away suddenly unable to meet her gaze. Emily sighed, it was obvious to her now that there was more to the footmen's stories than just idle gossip, there was something seriously wrong here, and she was going to have to tread very carefully so as not to cause anymore damage.

"Well how about we get this place straightened up?" Emily suggested after a few uncomfortable moments silence, and Flora nodded her agreement finally able to rein in her emotions and look the older woman straight in the eye before moving purposely towards the overturned chair and setting it right with an air of determined satisfaction.

An hour or so later a very nervous Flora Ryan was pacing up and down the staff corridor much to the amusement of her co-conspirator Emily Corey.

"I really shouldn't, it was entrusted to me for emergencies only and you know Walter he'll be furious!"

Emily shook her head bewildered, "Surely this counts as an emergency, the butler not appearing out of his room?"

"Well under normal circumstances, but these aren't normal circumstances!" Flora replied hesitantly.

"Listen to me my girl you're the one who suggested it so there's no use getting cold feet now." Emily reiterated an edge of steel entering her normally softly spoken voice.

"Yes at first I really thought something might be wrong, but we could hear him snoring all the way down the corridor so we know he's alright!" Flora snapped back, "There really is no need to invade his privacy!"

"No Need?" Emily barked at her, "After everything that's happened over the last few weeks there is every need, there's no two ways about it! So just hand over that key young lady and be off about your business, don't worry about Walter being angry, you just leave him to me!" Emily commanded holding out her hand for the master key that the fuming Flora was passing between her hands, for a moment the two women engaged in a silent staring competition; a battle of wills which eventually Flora conceded handing over the key without a word and storming off down the corridor to take her bad mood out on her maids.

Emily stood for a moment and watched Flora stride away, almost chuckling to herself. No wonder their relationship was a rocky one, neither her Walter nor Flora would be the type to give in easily, even if this current crisis was resolved she envisioned a tough future until the pair learned to compromise or one of them outmanoeuvred the other. Sighing to herself, Emily remembered her own marriage to Walter's father, that had had a difficult beginning, all Corey men had inherited this pompous arrogance and stubbornness not to mention an overly developed streak of jealously.

However that didn't mean they couldn't be worked on, once you had them figured out it was relatively easy to win an argument you just had to take the right approach. It was obvious however that Flora hadn't found this, or if she had didn't appear to use it, that was the problem with the young these days, they put off marriage for so long that by the time they do commit they are already to set in their ways and unwilling to change. Shaking her head and fixing a determined look upon her face, she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door and striding purposely into the room.

The first thing that hit her was the smell, the combination of stale smoke and alcohol almost had her reeling and Emily had to fight the reaction to gag, how could Walter possibly cope with the stench. The answer to her question was obvious, when on lighting a candle she spotted her son slumped over his desk, pen in one hand an empty whiskey bottle in the other, the ink from his unfinished letter now imprinted on his forehead as he snoozed face down amongst his papers. Sighing deeply to herself Emily began to walk across the room, pausing every few seconds to pick up the items she kept stepping on and bumping into.

In the middle of the floor sat a sturdy trunk, its lid open and clothes and books slung haphazardly and carelessly into its open jaws, Emily by now her arms filled with odds and ends dropped everything into the trunk with a loud clatter. Surprisingly Jarvis did not even stir from his slumbers, the sound of his snores drowning out any other, to the extent that his mother doubted a five gun salute would be sufficient to wake him.

Suddenly her glance fell on the very thing, yes she thought that should do the job nicely and seizing the water glass she threw the contents directly into Walter's face.

Shocked and dazed at being woken so suddenly Jarvis jumped up from his chair and staggered backwards, droplets of water running his face as he raised his hands to wipe them away, his eyes squinting to make out the figure in the darkness. "Flora?" He asked tentatively, his voice dry and croaking from his nap and dehydration.

"You'd be lucky!" Replied an amused voice from the darkness, and Jarvis's mouth dropped open in shock, it couldn't be? What would she being doing here, now? However his internal argument was cut short when out of the shadows his mother strode towards him.

"How the bloody hell…" Jarvis began in his shock, but he didn't get to finish his sentence, as her hand shot out and clipped him hard about the ear, causing Jarvis to loose his footing and fall backwards into the open mouth of his trunk.

"Don't you use language like that in front of ME Walter Corey, I ought to wash your mouth out with soap like when you were little!" Emily bellowed, her normally low voice turning shrill, every word accompanied and enunciated by the pointing of her finger and the normally fearless butler quailed under her steely gaze.

"I'm sorry." Jarvis muttered, his voice barely audible in the tense silence that followed his mother's rant.

"You're what?" Emily asked sarcastically, raising her hand to her ear to emphasise her point.

"I'M SORRY!" Jarvis snapped back, his own temper rising now he had gotten over the shock of seeing his mother emerge from the darkness.

"Well I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten how to apologise completely! Although from what I have heard you might want to try apologising to some more people around here, not just to me!" Emily replied pointedly, her mouth set in a grim line and an eyebrow raised.

"Oh I see Flora's already gotten to you! Well go ahead take their side why don't you? Here was I stupidly thinking that being MY mother you might want to support me?" Jarvis snarled, heaving himself out of the trunk and stalking over to the window, where he flung open the curtain flinching for a moment at the sudden brightness.

"You're my son Walter and I love you, but that doesn't mean I will stand by and support you when you are making an ass of yourself!" Emily retorted, walking over to stand next to him and placing her hand gently on his arm.

"I had no choice!" Jarvis muttered, "she was making a fool of me and I couldn't allow it! Hang it mother I just couldn't, I just lost it, and the next thing I know I'm being manhandled by my insubordinates and Flora is throwing my ring back in my face."

"You really frightened her!" Emily whispered softly her eyes locked in her son's face.

Jarvis frowned slightly, an expression of agony in his eyes, and he hung his head for a moment in shame. "I know, I wish I hadn't, it's just… she's just so damn stubborn…."

"She's not the only one Walter!" Emily reminded him.

"But she started it, why couldn't she just agree, just for once give in?" Jarvis asked, turning to face his mother a pleading look of desperation on his face.

"You can't expect her to be less than the person she is Walter, that's the person you fell in love with and you have to take the bad as well as the good, would you be willing to change your attitudes and beliefs solely at her command?"

"I've jumped through enough of her hoops already! I've bent over backwards trying to please her! " Jarvis replied bitterly, "It's her turn now!"

Emily turned sharply and walked away, pacing the room to try and control her bubbling temper. "Don't you think there is a bit of a difference? You can't force her into marrying you, and having your children, that's wrong Walter!"

"Why not? She'd already agreed when she accepted my proposal, she can't go backing out at the last minute, it's not fair!" Walter replied his bottom lip trembling slightly as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened, reminding Emily of him as a growing boy, determined not to show his tears to his father.

"She's the only woman in the world for me, the only one I would give up everything for, the only one I want to be my wife to bear my children, but she can take it all away with a snap of her fingers! I just couldn't let her ruin my life like this; I saw it in my mind how it could be. A home and a family, a wife who I could love and protect, then our children who I could nurture and support, I always pictured us with three, two boys and a girl."

"The eldest, a boy, he'd have his mother's colouring but my eyes and features, the girl would have to be a model of her mother, and the youngest would take after my side of the family, and be fair but he'd have Flora's eyes. Through those lonely nights all I had to keep me sane was the image of the whole family gathered round the fire, I'd be reading aloud to the two eldest, who knowing their parents would probably be rowdy and interrupting every other sentence. Flora would be sitting in her chair darning socks, the youngest asleep in her lap, and every so often our eyes would meet and she'd smile at me, and we'd share one of our special glances."

"Don't you understand Mother, I had to fight for that future, for those children….. because…. I was the only one who could!" Jarvis tailed off, turning to look back out the window, no longer trusting his own voice not to betray him and determined to hide the tears that were threatening.

Emily walked over to him, and wrapped her arms round him from behind hugging him close, just like when he was a little boy and he would come to her in tears. Blinking back her own tears she muttered softly, "Don't worry Walter we'll make this work, I'll help you any way I can and between the two of us I'm sure we can think of someway to get her back; what chance does her resolve stand against two Corey's? Somehow we'll make that future happen!"

Meanwhile, whilst Emily and Walter were plotting, Flora had thrown herself wholeheartedly into her work, as if the process of cleaning the house would in turn place her own life in order. However the memories of the night before where not so easily put aside, and no matter how engaged she was in inspecting the guest bedrooms and reprimanding her maids, her mind was mostly preoccupied with the night before.

Sighing to herself she made her way down the West Corridor, giving cursory nods and instructions to the scattering of maids that were dashing about, many of whom throwing her concerned glances or gossiping in corners. It hadn't made it easier to forget, knowing that everyone knew and was talking about it. She had caught snippets of conversation, before people had realised she was present and stopped talking suddenly. Most of the gossip was speculation, some about the nature of her and Walter's relationship, Johnny appeared convinced and was expounding to anyone who'd listen, that last night was not the first time Walter had hit her.

In fact the topic of conversation seemed to be divided squarely between Mr Jarvis's violent temper and speculations about the nature of her relationship with Will. Flora paused her hand on Lady Farqueson's doorknob. What was her relationship with Will? Before last night, despite the kiss she would have said that there was nothing at all between them, except the remnants of his youthful crush, but he hadn't acted the bashful youth last night. Flora forced her thoughts away from Walter's reaction and tried to piece together what had been happening before his arrival.

She had left her office, intending to go and see Walter and give him his answer, but even at that point she hadn't made her mind up what she was going to say to him, would she have said yes or no? Even now after everything that had happened she still wasn't sure what her answer would have been. But on the way she had overheard those spiteful remarks from the scullery maid and it had made her so angry. After everything that Will had been through, and after being continuously punished for something that he had no control over, for her that had been the last straw. So on the spur of the moment she had burst into the Lower Servants hall and asked William Forest to dance.

Looking back on that decision now, it probably wasn't the wisest of moves considering Walter's attitude towards Will and her, but something had made her do it, and even now she couldn't find it in herself to regret the decision. It had been as though a part of her was screaming out to take control of the situation whilst it was still her's before she made her choice and handed over control of her life to someone else. Perhaps it had been her way of rebelling against Walter's dictates, of being able to show him and everyone else that she was still in control. But if that had been her reason, what had been Will's?

Slowly as she opened the door and began inspecting the mantelpiece and furniture for dust, her mind returned to motives of the young footman. At first he had been stunned, of that there had been no doubt, but after that he seemed to relax and even to enjoy himself. His eyes hadn't left her's for a moment whilst they were dancing, at first it was uncomfortable, having someone other than Walter lock her gaze. What had he read in her eyes, something that made him beg her stay for another dance? Maybe he had seen her dread and desperation for the task ahead and so had taken pity on her?

Flora shook her head slightly, no he couldn't have there must be another explanation. Blushing slightly Flora tried to dismiss the obvious, there was no way he felt that way towards her, yet in the back of her mind nagged the memory of him pulling her closer than appropriate during the dancing, so close they occasionally brushed against each other. The image of him gently brushing her hair out of her face and the feel of his racing pulse through their entwined hands. All these memories came flooding back, until her head began to swim as if still dizzy from dancing, all of which made her wonder, what would Will have done next if Walter hadn't turned up when he did?

Meanwhile, the lower staff are reeling downstairs from Mrs Ryan's horrific mood, and were most relieved when she announced she was going to attend Lady Rebecca and that she would most probably be a little while and to get on with their duties in her absence. Adams had already managed to escape her wrath – because of Jarvis' untimely non-attendance Flora had taken it upon herself to order him about in the most derogatory fashion. Because of his recently attained good humour he could take it for a minute or two, but when she began scolding him for his lack of attention to the silverware he could stand it no longer and wracked his brain for a suitable snide retort. Unfortunately for Adams for once in his life couldn't think quickly enough, and Flora had finished her dressing down, turned on her heels and marched off, her skirts flying and swishing around her, by the time he had thought of anything. Taking his opportunity, he had hurried off to his room for five minute's peace.

He had been staring at his closed diary for a little while before sighing and shutting his eyes. It isn't as if he has no inclination to write anything, more like he isn't sure what to write. He hasn't done a diary entry since Rebecca's arrival, mainly due to lack of time, but partly due to putting it off out of confusion. Shaking his head, he puts down his quill and slams the lid back down on the ink pot, scraping the chair back and kicking some dirty socks and a Naval jacket out of the way moves over to the window, leaning on the sill and staring out at the wintry clouds. Smiling to himself, he thinks back to the previous night, how despite Rebecca's childishness and the clothes-out-of-the-window fiasco, they still managed to have the best sex since she had arrived at Taplows.

But then his mind begins to wander and he frowns, cursing himself and resting his head on his arm, trying to ignore the thoughts racing through his brain. The dream from the previous night is still fresh in his mind, how he went into Tappleton to buy Rebecca a gift, but found in every shop window the most exquisite jewellery and clothing that he could never even hope to afford. He had run around the streets, dashing into shops, trying to find her something, anything he could buy her to stop her from dumping him for some rich laird back home. If he had ever bought her anything in the end he would never know, because Mrs Ryan's voice booming through his keyhole had woken him with an unexpected jolt.

But then Lady Rebecca just doesn't want for anything, well anything materialistic anyway. Her other needs and desires are a completely different issue, as Adams is all to aware of, but for all his current enjoyment and the exciting danger of it all, he has no wish to remain her bit of rough for ever, and he hates even more to think of her as just his bit of posh. He doubts she will ever know just how much he loves and cares for her, even if she does laugh at him in women's undergarments.

Feeling a little depressed and unworthy of such a beautiful, refined woman, Adams turns away from the window and stares around his room in self-pity. Everything he owns is in this room, and absolutely none of it could possibly give Rebecca an ounce of happiness. Although he doesn't own the bed, or the wardrobe, or any of the four walls…….Straightening his jacket, he decides the only way is to pull himself together and go and talk to Rebecca about it, but in the nicest possible way so not to upset her. Making her cry would never do, and it could possibly mean no visit to her room that night, so he knows he has to tread very carefully. Tea and cake. That could help. Yes, he would take her her elevenses himself, and maybe if she is about to bathe he could get rid of Isobel and help her with that too……

In the servants quarters, the footmen and a few of the maids have taken the opportunity to stop and gossip. Adams isn't around, Mrs Ryan has stormed off to see Lady sex-on-legs and as for Mr Jarvis, well, they doubt whether they will ever see his angry face again. The rumour mill is of course in full flow, so although the three of the more senior staff are out of sight, they are most definitely not out of mind. George is stood in the corner chatting to Joseph and Fred, completely ignoring Will who is leaning against the wall, his head hanging and unusually quiet. Occasionally he would glance up, a certain hollowness to his gaze, and at one point he caught the eye of Charlotte who is laughing about Mrs Ryan's temperament with Grace. The look in Charlotte's eyes said it all to him, just what everyone must be thinking, but before his expression can plead with her Frank strolls in, shooting a glance around the hall.

George Whispering to Joe, a cheeky grin on his face: 'ere, mate, I heard that Adams took a swing at Jarvis in his room last night, but Jarvis had got himself so hammered he fell over before he could be thumped!

Joe Looking sceptical: Yeah right, and who did you hear that from?

George shrugging: Johnny told me.

Fred shaking his head and grinning: Why do you believe everything that boy tells you, George? Last time you believed his yarn that Mr Simpkins had been caught wooing Mrs Diggins with a jam roly poly in the Orangery! God, mate, you're so gullible.

All three footmen stopped their gossiping on seeing Frank's smug grin as George's blood runs cold, but the valet ignores him, his icy stare focused completely on the silent footman on his own, not a friend around him to back him up. Smiling wickedly, Frank locks onto his target and aims for him like a wolf corners an injured deer

Frank sauntering up to Will, shouting so everyone could hear: So, quite the stud around here, aren't you, William? First that minx Esther and now Mrs Ryan. Or were you having it away with the two of them at the same time? My, I would've thought I'd have noticed that one!

Frank moved closer to Will, desperate for a reaction from him, expecting the footman to size him up and threaten to fill his face with his fist. But nothing. Will remains slumped on the wall, as if he can't hear a word Frank is saying, while everyone stands quietly, motionless, staring at the two men

Frank peering at him in an exaggerated fashion: OI! Are you deaf or what! Didn't think you could keep knocking up the housekeeper a secret, did you? Even if she was careless enough to loose it! Yes I've heard things about women of a certain age, always gagging for it, especially with young blokes. You're quite a good-looking chap, when comparing you to the other apes around here, so I'm not surprised she got you into her bed! Or was it a quick fumble in the stables? Come on, speak!

The valet gives Will a hard shove, nearly causing him to loose balance, but suddenly an unexpected voice pipes up, bold and angry, if a little shaky

Grace stepping forward, her arms firmly crossed: Shut it, Frank. Leave him alone!

Frank spins round as Will raises his head slightly for the first time, his expression completely blank. Grace could see instantly that he is a broken man, that all the pain and bullying he had suffered since the party has finally brought him close to the edge, and her hatred for Frank has intensified to an almost unmanageable emotion and she has surprised herself with the pity she is feeling towards Will. Nobody, no matter how bad, deserved to be treated this way, especially by Frank.

Frank raising an eyebrow and glaring at Grace: Oh, you got a thing going with him too, have you? How cosy! All three of you get together do you? Poor William, he mustn't know where to put himself! As long as I can come and watch.

Frank steps towards Grace, her eyes piercing through his as he brushes strands of hair off her face. She backs away slightly, but before she can retort George steps in front of her, his fists and jaw tightly clenched

George his voice low and threatening: Back off, Frank. Now.

Frank cowers mockingly, letting out a high-pitched squeal as George steps towards him, shrugging off Grace as she tries to hold him back

Frank a small smile curling his lower lip: Oooh, I'm so scared, Georgie-Porgie!

George is just about to reply with 'you should be' when the intensity of the moment is broken by Andrew Adams storming into the hall and stopping dead in the middle of the excitement

Adams puffing out his chest: What's going on in here, then? More idle gossip?  
George his eyes still fixed on Frank: Mr Kenally here just needed reminding of his manners, that's all, Mr Adams.

Adams grinning at a now obviously self-conscious Frank: Is that so? I think you should all get about your business before Mrs Ryan catches you all standing around making the place look untidy.

Frank snorting and turning to Will again: Looks like she's already caught one of us, aint that right, Forest?

Adams couldn't help a slight snigger. He quite likes Frank Kenally from what he has seen of him – a man who can hold his own and knows what he wants in life is most admirable - so he decides not to reprimand him and instead gives him a subtle congratulatory nod and a smile. Anyone who can hate Will as much as him is surely worthy of a chance to get into Adams' good books.

As the gathering broke up, a low rumble of chatter starting, Frank tries to grab Grace's arm but instead she glares at him, her nose wrinkling in anger as she shakes him off and dashes from the room, pulling George with her to stop him from picking another fight. Will hauls himself off the wall, and practically shuffles away, but not before catching Adams' watchful eye. Will glances from him to Frank, who is stood right next to him, almost partners in crime. Without an ounce of fight left in him, the sorry footman looks away from their grinning faces and exits after Charlotte and Lizzie, who had remained silent throughout the stand-off. If he had seen her, Will would have noticed the deep hurt and sorrow on her round face, but he had not, too caught up in his own pity. It seems, to Will, even though Grace had momentarily stood up for him, that nobody would ever go near or speak to him again. And that included Flora Ryan

Right. He is completely prepared. He needs to know exactly where he stands with her, exactly how she feels, and he concludes that over elevenses is just the right time to do it. If they both happen to be naked in her bath tub while eating their cake then so be it. If he leaves talking to her until tonight then he is convinced that the day will surely drag and he will get it all out of proportion in his mind, so building up his resolve Adams heads to the kitchen in search of the china. As he does so, his thoughts completely ingrossed in what he is going to say to her, he strolls past Joseph and Fred who are stood nattering in the doorway

Adams stopping and looking them up and down disapprovingly: What are you two doing? Nothing it seems!

Fred grinning at Joe, backing away and pointing at him: I will, you know! I'll will!

Joe shakes his head disapprovingly, sighing and looking at Adams who is quite put out that his authority seems to be being completely ignored by the two footmen. Fred can be heard laughing down the hallway before ducking out of sight into the footman's changing room

Joe waving a cursory hand in Fred's direction: Reckons he can get that Isobel into bed. I mean she seems to be keen on him, but I don't reckon he's got it in him.

Adams raising his eyebrows: Is that so?

Suddenly it strikes him. If he plays his cards right then he could maybe make a bob or two out of this, and knowing Isobel's rather unscrupulous reputation back at Highlands Fred is on to a sure thing – she would bed any willing man as soon as look at him

Adams nudging Joe and lowering his voice: Between you and me, laddie, there's not a cat's chance in hell that our Frederick is going to bed that girl. I'd be surprised if she even knew one end of a man from the other! You could bet a whole month's pay and be guaranteed to be still in pocket after months of him trying.

Joe frowning: So you think I should bet him then? Cos there's no way he'll manage it?

Adams nodding and clapping him on the shoulder: Well, if I were you! Just a friendly tip, of course.

Joe grits his teeth, clapping his hands together before storming towards the changing room before he changes his mind and it actually occurs to him that maybe Adams is being his usual self and is feeding him a whole lots of, er, dung. Andrew hangs back slightly, unable to prevent a grin spreading across his face, before trotting after the gullible footman to make sure it all goes to plan

Joe striding into the room, a confident look on his face: Right mate, I bet you £5 you can't get Isobel into bed.

Fred looks around smugly as he pulls his jacket out of the cupboard and throws it over a chair, then moves over to his wig to finish powdering it. He notices Adams appearing in the doorway and he briefly catches the under-butler's eye

Fred tutting and smiling: You 'aint got £5, mate.

Joe looking a little flustered: Yeah I have! I've been saving! And anyway you'll be owing me money, I'm sure of it!

Joe, failing to notice Adams standing right behind him, folds his arms and waits impatiently for an answer, but Fred looks back at Adams over his friend's shoulder and sees him nodding vigorously at him, a keen look on his face

Fred glancing back at Joe, rather amused: Alright then! £5 it is!

Adams stepping forward and tapping Joe on the arm: Right laddie, I need you to go and polish the silver again – Mrs Ryan was rather displeased with you before when I spoke to her. Appears you've not been doing your job properly!

Joe confused as Adams ushers him out of the room: But I haven't been polishing…..!

Adams raising his voice and indicating down the hallway: Now, Mr James! Before she catches up with you, and in her current mood I doubt very much she'll want to hear your excuses!

Without another word, yet rather angry with the housekeeper for apparently accusing him of failing to do something properly when it hadn't even been his job to do it at all, Joseph mutters some expletive to himself and hurries away

Fred To Adams as he brushes down his jacket: He needs his knuts tightening if you ask me. I mean I know I'm a bit of a catch, but £5!

Adams grins again, walking up to him and leaning in close, causing Fred to step back slightly out of unease

Adams rocking on his heels: Well, you do know that with the right, er, encouragement, Isobel is any man's?

Fred suddenly looking interested as he puts his brush down: Ah, bit of an easy one, is she?

Adams nodding: Oh yes, if her reputation at Highlands is anything to go by. I mean I'd never have taken her up on her offer myself, but I know exactly how she likes to be wooed. And if you do it right, laddie, she could be yours by tonight, and you get yourself a tidy wager out of it too.

Fred rubbing his chin, but then looks at Adams suspiciously: Hang on, hang on. What's in it for you? You wouldn't help me unless……

Adams backing away slightly, his grin more devious than ever: Well, naturally, for some useful information on the lady in question, I would need a little reward, only if you succeed of course

Fred smiling yet looking a little sourly at the under-butler: Ah, yes, of course! How much are we talking then, eh? £1?

Adams frowning in disgust: £1! Well in that case I'm afraid I can't………

Fred obviously desperate to get some action that night: Fine, fine, name it. But not too much mind, I still want something left to show for it!

After a little negotiation, Adams is finally pleased with their settlement and proceeds to tell Fred a whole lot of useless pointers about his mistress' maid. Little does Fred know, but it doesn't matter what he does, unless he actively goes about insulting her – she is putty in his hands. The fact she has the eye for him is certainly enough in Isobel's book.

But, ten minutes later, Adams saunters out of the room leaving Fred rubbing his hands together and plotting his moves to impress Isobel. Sniggering, looking slyly back over his shoulder, Andrew Adams trots happily towards the kitchens, whistling and looking at his pocket watch. But he notices that he is running a little late, and sucking in a sudden breath of air between his teeth he goes about making the tea and hunting out one of the freshly baked lemon cakes made by cook that morning. It took him nearly two minutes to notice Lizzie standing behind him, looking slightly confused as to what her father is doing in the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards

Lizzie clearing her throat so Adams swings round to see her: Father, what are you looking for?

Adams straightening up, tugging his sleeves: Errr, I'm – I'm looking for lemon cake for Lady Farquharson's elevenses.

Lizzie apparently not noticing his shiftiness: Well, you won't find it in there. It's in the pantry.

The maid shook her head then vanishes for a minute or two, carrying the cake. Cutting a slice, she looks at Adams who is staring down at it, as if desperate to get at it himself

Lizzie frowning, placing the slice on a china plate and adding it to the tray: Father, are you alright? I'll take this up to Lady Farquharson, I was just about to do it anyway and…….

Adams practically jumping and diving in front of the tray: No, it's fine, I er, I'll take it, you go about your duties, you must have enough to get on without bothering with that!

Lizzie, completely bemused by Adams' sudden concern for her workload, backs away slightly, staring suspiciously at him. But, after all, he is her father, and her superior, so simply shrugs, wiping her icing sugared fingers on her apron. Anyway, she has more important things on her mind without her father's bizarre antics becoming a source of worry. Adams smiles at her, almost lovingly, unbeknown to her that he really just wants her out of the way as quickly as possible. Returning the gesture, to Adams' amazed surprise she leans forward and quickly places a small kiss on his cheek before exiting, although he can't help but notice the sadness in her steps.  
That Forest, he thinks, cursing the young footman again, before realising that the tea is ready. Hurriedly slicing another (this time much larger) piece, he gathers two cups – one for him, one for Rebecca – the tea, and the milk and lifts the tray up, swiftly exiting the kitchen

Cut to Rebecca's room, where she and Flora are chatting loudly, giggling and telling stories. Flora is now sat on the Lady's bed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes

Rebecca standing and gesturing to the floor: ….and then he says 'oh my Lady, you appear to have dropped your glove', so I said to him 'why, sir, that glove does not belong to me,' so he replied 'of course, my dear darling Rebecca, your hands are far too dainty', so I merely responded with a cursory glance, waving my fan and saying 'but, Sir Henry, I am wearing both of my gloves, the glove to which you refer belongs to Lady Annabel'. Oh my dear Flora, she is THE MOST laughable creature, absolutely ghastly, so poor Sir Henry had to spend all evening with the woman!

Flora, finding Lady Rebecca's company absolutely delightful, decides to forget about the time, Walter, Will and everyone else. Another woman's company – someone who might understand the loneliness of a trapped existence – is something she had craved for a long time and this hour or so of happiness is doing her the world of good. Rebecca, still giggling girlishly over dear Sir Henry, sits herself back down, her face lit up beautifully through pink cheeks and her hair back in a bun. She pats the seat next to her and Flora obeys, and the housekeeper is just about to tell her about the awful business nearly a year ago now with the food poisoning when there is a knock on the door. The 'secret knock'.

Rebecca raising and eyebrow and calling out: Oh do come in! Must be elevenses!

The door opens slowly, and a beaming Adams appears with the tray. He is just about to say something – something he could have possibly regretted – when he stops dead, the smile falling rapidly off his face as he focuses on Flora sitting next to his lover.

Rebecca clasping her hands and letting out a little yelp: Marvellous! Cake and tea, and oh lovely Mr Adams here has brought a slice and a cup for you too Flora dearest!

For a second neither Adams nor Flora spoke but just stared at each other, Flora obviously embarrassed at her colleague finding her sitting chatting to an aristocrat. Jumping to her feet nervously, Flora is about to make for the door when Rebecca tuts loudly, trying to break the awkwardness of the situation

Rebecca waving Adams over: No Flora you must stay, I insist! Thank you Adams, place the tray here. That will be all.

Adams, still holding the tray, catches Rebecca's gaze, a furious look developing as his hands begin to shake in anger. His eyes widen in frustration, but she smiles softly at him, winking cheekily. This does little to lessen his mood, and he slams down the tray a little too hard, causing the china to clink together manically and the tea to nearly spill. Flora, rather puzzled by his behaviour, lowers herself back into her seat, glancing from the Lady to the under-butler and very much sensing some tension

Adams not taking his eyes off Rebecca, a certain amount of spite in his voice: Here's your cake, M'Lady. He then turns on his heels with a dissatisfied grunt and marches out of the room, with one last jealous glance back at Flora. How dare she? Taking up his valuable time with Rebecca? And how DARE he be shooed away, like some servant!

Rebecca leaning towards Flora and giggling again: Oh dear, I don't think he's very pleased with me!

Flora sipping from her cup before placing it on the table: Why not?

Rebecca hesitating then smiling: Because you're here, I'm afraid.

Flora suddenly flustered, gathering her skirts as she stands: Oh, I must leave, he's right, I have no business being here, you're the Earl's guest and I am being most disrespectful...

Rebecca chuckling, taking hold of her elbow: No, no, no dear Flora! That, I can assure you, is not his reason!

Flora spinning round, a little startled: Well, what is, er, Becca? If you don't mind me asking?

Rebecca delicately pinching a bit of cake then lowering her voice: He wanted me alone.

Flora covering her mouth and mumbling: Why!

Rebecca's mouth twitched, before a small smile crept over it, her eyes twinkling naughtily. But then her expression turns serious as she looks Flora straight in the eye

Rebecca: I think I can trust you to keep a secret, and I think you will understand.

Flora sits back slightly, her heart beginning to pound and her eyes widening – is she about to say what she thinks she is? Rebecca clasps her hand, as if she has known Flora all her life and confiding in her is the normal thing to do

Rebecca not waiting for a verbal response: Forgive me if I am being a little intrusive, but has Mr Jarvis……

She pauses, trying to work out what to say next, while Flora almost gasps at the mention of Walter's name, the first time she has heard Rebecca speak of him to her. But Lady Farquharson, too caught up in her own thoughts to notice, continues

Rebecca her voice soft and almost child-like: Has Mr Jarvis even made you feel so special – more happy when he is with you than you could ever have imagined? Even though you know the relationship would be frowned upon by some as inappropriate? And did that knowledge ever make you feel excited, the prospect of you being discovered liaising – sexually - with someone you possibly shouldn't?

Flora just gasps, totally speechless and not sure whether to be more shocked by Rebecca asking her about Walter in this way, or by what exactly it was she was hinting at. She reaches out to grasp a cup of tea, but her hand is shaking so much she pulls back, placing it on her lap

Flora biting her bottom lip: I suppose so, in – in a way, yes. But what has this got to do with Mr Adams?

Rebecca, unsure whether Flora is being gullible or in just in denial, laughs slightly then looks over to the door which Adams had exited from only minutes before, as if his spirit is still there listening in to their conversation. Glancing back at Flora, she raises her eyebrows and smiles in contentment. Finally she is telling someone about it. Finally she can admit it, after a year of secrecy, and it felt right.

Flora gasping again, then finding her composure nibbles the cake: So you and Mr Adams? Together!

Flora, realising that she said that in an almost disgusted tone, looks down at her plate and frowns, but Rebecca laughs gently and touches Flora's arm

Rebecca: It's fine, really it is! I love him, I won't deny it. He was there for me when I was lonely at Highlands, and I missed him awfully when he came down here.

Flora still taking the news in: It…it must be very difficult for you, both of you. To keep it a secret like this.

Rebecca nodding and smiling: Well, not really, he's a very subtle sort of man, as you know.

There is a small pause before both women collapse laughing again, so hard that neither think they will ever stop, until finally exhausted – and because their tea is getting cold – they wipe their eyes and begin to polish off their cake

Rebecca giving Flora a nudge and a wink: Do you want to know what Andrew's like in bed?

Flora almost choking on her cake as the rest crumbled messily in her fingers: Er, no thank you, I think I can cope without ever knowing that one!

Rebecca flopping back in her seat, giggling naughtily: Oh, he's very good you know. Absolutely spiffing technique, don't know where he learns it all but I'm not complaining!

Flora laughs, shaking her head and covering her ears in mock disgust

Rebecca: Oh well never mind him for now, tell me all about your Walter! How did you get together? I want to hear everything Flora, and only then will I let you get on with your duties!

Flora stops laughing and sighs, looking at Rebecca with sadness and pain in her eyes. She hasn't spoken to anyone about him, not properly, since Felix left. Maybe now is the time to pour her heart out to someone, and the very open-minded Lady Farquharson seems to her to be the ideal person to tell

For Flora Ryan the afternoon had passed for more pleasantly than she anticipated, it had been years since she spent time gossiping and giggling with another woman. Ever since her promotion to housekeeper other women had either been her subordinates or superiors, and it wasn't possible for her to be palsy with either. True she still had her friends from her earlier life in service, but between moving away, the demands of their families and the state of the postal service, their only contact was the infrequent exchange of letters. It felt like such a relief to be able to discuss things face to face with someone, and although Rebecca had often come out with things that had at first shocked Flora by their bare honesty or revealing nature, her friendly outgoing nature soon had Flora getting over her inhibitions and discussing her troubles, namely Walter.

However Flora was soon brought out of her reverie when on approaching her office she spotted George Cosmo hanging around outside nervous and distracted, as soon as he turned and caught sight of her, she could see his obvious relief.  
"Mrs Ryan!" He exclaimed.

"Yes George, what is it?" Flora asked kindly, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"It's Will!" George replied, "He's missing…..Ever since that scene this morning with Frank and Mr Adams he disappeared, I've managed to cover for him so far but if Mr Adams finds out he'll get him sacked for sure!"

"Where have you looked for him?" Flora asked, concern for the young footmen evident in her voice, a sense of guilt and fear settling in her stomach. He'd been put through so much lately and mostly because of her, and the memory of his reaction to Lord Harry's death did nothing to assuage her fears. Last time he had disappeared her and George were able to cover for him, pretending the lads had swapped days off, but this wouldn't work this time! Nor did the fact that his last depression had only been cut short by his receiving a beating that almost killed him!

"Well I can do most of the downstairs, but I don't have any reason to go into the main house and Mr Adams is more likely to notice if two of us are missing!" George reminded her.

"Alright, don't worry you just leave Mr Forest and Mr Adams to me!" And with that Flora stormed off, determined to find the footman before the under butler and before Will had the chance to do something stupid.

It took her almost an hour to find him, she's searched the whole of the gardens first, then the stables, the servants quarters and then a cursory examination of the main house, but that was still so busy with the clean up from the night before it was unlikely to be his place of refuge. So that left only one other realistic possibility unless he had fled into town? Climbing the final few stairs Flora pushed open the roof door and slowly crept out, the bitingly cold wind whipping down the hillside and blasted against the sides of the house. Up on the roof Flora wrapped her arms around her waist hugging herself in an attempt to keep warm in the dropping temperatures, it was then she spotted him standing down the far end silhouetted against the setting sun, leaning against the battlement his attention fixed on the ground below.

For a moment Flora's heart leapt into her throat, he wasn't going to jump, was he? Then slowly so not to startle him she walked towards him, careful to keep the rustle of her skirts to a minimum. When she was only a few feet away Will appeared to have made up his mind and went to place a foot on the wall. Panicking Flora dashed forward and grabbed his arm intending to anchor him to solid ground, but succeeding in unbalancing Will so he flung his arms around her to prevent himself from flying backwards.

For a moment it looked like Will would unbalance them both, but he managed to regain his footing at the last minute but then had to contain his shock as the housekeeper threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. Slightly bemused, but not at all displeased at this bizarre turn of events Will slid his arms around her small waist and pulled her firmly against him, unable to breath for fear that this dream would vanish.

"Thank God you're alright…..Will please promise me you won't come up here ever again!" Flora muttered into his shoulder.

"But…." Will began, thinking he'd only come up here for some peace and quiet.

"Promise Me!" Flora demanded cutting him off, finally releasing him enough that she could seize his jaw and force him to look her straight in the eye.

Will finally realised what it must have looked like from the housekeeper's perspective, she must have thought he was going to jump when in reality he was just going to adjust his stocking. But as he luxuriated in the feel of her in his arms and the warmth of her breath on his face, he decided there was no need to tell her that, this was one advantage he was not going to let slip. Looking deeply into her eyes, he nodded slowly his assent scrunching up his face to force tears, enjoying the sensations as she brushed his hair out his eyes, before pulling him back into her embrace, Will lowering his head so it lay cushioned on her chest.

Flora rocked him slowly in her arms, soothing him as she would a child, smoothing his hair back and occasionally placing a kiss on the top of his head. Whilst Will smiled smugly to himself, pulling her tighter into his embrace, allowing himself to nuzzle his face firmly against her breasts; enjoying the automatic reactions she tried to hide. The sudden hike in her breathing as he seemingly inadvertently pulled her closer, rubbing his hands up and down her back or exhaled suddenly, blowing a gust of hot breath down the neck of her dress causing her to shiver slightly and her chest to rise and fall more rapidly.

After a few minutes Will reluctantly allowed Flora to break their embrace, turning from her slightly and wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. This gesture caused her reach out and brush her hand softly down his cheek, when she moved to pull away Will seized her hand imprisoning it within his own and for a moment their eyes locked. Will kept his gaze locked with her's as he raised her hand to his lips, not releasing her gaze as he placed soft lingering kisses on each of her knuckles in turn, before turning her hand over and finally breaking their eye contact as he nuzzled into her palm.

At first Flora was too stunned to react to Will's unexpected romantic gesture, then after a few moments she returned to her senses and gently tugged her hand out of his grasp. For what seemed like eternity Will simply stood staring intently at her not saying or doing anything, then with a smile and slight bow he turned and walked over to the roof door opening it wide for her, waiting for her to enter the house first before shutting it firmly behind them both. 

A few minutes later and Will entered the lower Servants hall. The dinner gong had just sounded and throngs of servants entered the hall from very entrance, few paying any attention to the footman. Will slung himself down next to George and reached out eagerly for a slice of bread, whilst his friend looked at him in amazement.

"Where the bloody hell have you been all afternoon?"

"Oh here and there, mostly there!" Will replied cheekily.

"Well that's gratitude, I've spent the whole afternoon looking for you and covering your back from Adams!" George snorted back.

"Why Georgie mate, that's damn good of you!" Will added a touch of sarcasm in his tone, as his previous smile turned into a broad grin.

George sat back in his seat in amazement, gone was the introverted Will of this morning and back was the lad he used to know, leaning forward George whispered so that only Will could hear. "Did Mrs Ryan find you? Did the pair of you sort things out?"

Will his mouth half full of bread simply muttered back in an infuriatingly sing song voice, "Maybe, Maybe not!"

"Alright Will I'll bite, what the hell have you been up to?" Then he added after a flash of inspiration, "Or should I say who?"

Will didn't answer, but his beaming smile and twinkling eyes teased wickedly.

"Na! You never were!" George gasped a look of pure disbelief on his face. Then he leant in and added in a whisper, "you and Mrs Ryan, just now?... Na you're not suicidal, and if Jarvis caught you!"

Will burst out laughing, almost choking on his food which caused the surrounding diners to turn and glare at him, but Will was now impervious to their scorn and disapproval, shrugging off their stares and muttered comments, it was like water off a duck's back. "I never said I was mate! You and your little dirty mind came up with that scenario all by yourself!" Will replied teasingly, but still his grin remained.

"Well whatever!" George replied, now even more confused than before as to his friend's relationship with the housekeeper. "So you up for a game of cheese rolling tonight?"

Will laughed and shook his head, "Na, not tonight, I fancy an early night!"

"Oh got a better offer have we?" George asked not expecting Will to answer.

"No, it's just been one of those days, completely knackering, and I do need to keep up my strength! It takes a lot out of you catering to the every demand of your superiors, exceeding their expectations; giving a hundred and ten percent WHENEVER, WHEREVER and HOWEVER they require it!" Will replied, his eyebrow raised mischievously, waving his fork around punctuating every word.

Before leaning in conspiratorially and whispering to George. "And believe me mate some of them require their demands satisfying over and over again, each time raising their expectations, practically insatiable some of them! A lesser man would struggle to continually rise to the challenge!"

"But not you, eh Will?" George asked mockingly not really believing a word the footman said but playing along anyway.

"Na, not me, providing I'm given the right opportunity and encouragement and on occasion a free hand, I never fail to pleasantly surprise those I serve under!" Will replied piling his food high on to his fork and shovelling it into his mouth like a man who hadn't eaten for days.

"The joys of service, as it were?" George added snorting with laughter into his stew.

"To service the needs of others is the noblest thing a man can do! According to our esteemed absentee Butler! So who am I to argue?" Will added swiping at the last morsel on his plate with another piece of bread, before getting hastily to his feet.

"Mr Forest!" Yelled Adams down the length of the table. "And WHERE do you think you are going?" He added his face twisted up in a malicious grin. "Dashing off without your pudding, now that's unlike you, normally you're the first pig at the trough and the last one to leave!"

"Oh well I've decided to cut down, can't start letting myself go." Will replied, then added cheekily, "after all once you reach a certain age I guess there's no point trying anymore you'll never regain the figure of your youth! I'm trying to avoid that happening, can't go around disappointing the ladies." Will replied a pointed look at Adams who automatically sucked in his stomach.

"Personally I think it will take more than loosing a few pounds for ladies to be impressed by a lout like you!" Adams retorted, his temper rising at the cocky insensitive attitude of the young footman who had hurt and slighted his daughter.

"Now that's funny, so far I don't seem to have had any complaints, in fact quite the opposite most vocally enthuse about my prowess, sometimes a little louder than is necessary but you know how woman are when they get themselves all worked up. As a result I have as much female attention as I care to handle!" Will replied his voice gaining a steely strength that few had ever seen as he matched Adams's gaze, and for a moment both men glared at each other, both unwilling to back down.

"Really? And where have you been all afternoon, don't think I hadn't noticed! Shirking you duties as usual?"

"Not at all sir!" Will replied sincerely.

"Well where the bloody hell where you?" Adams bellowed, infuriated with Will's flippant attitude.

"I was hard at it all afternoon, strenuous man's work, not that it didn't have its own rewards!" Will replied, deliberately avoiding Adams' question and watching with glee as the under butler's face grew redder and redder.

"Where? On whose Instruction?" Adams rasped, his voice starting to shake with barely restrained fury.

"Here and there, on tasks that required my special blend of expertise and enthusiasm, under Mrs Ryan's direct supervision! She had identified some delicate, sensitive areas that needed special attention after last nights events, and they required immediate action! Apparently they had been carelessly neglected for some time now and needed someone special to give them a thorough seeing to" Will retorted, a sly smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

"You better watch it Laddie!" Adams growled, "Or this time I'll see you out of here before your suet pudding has time to cool!"

"Really?" Will asked, his eyebrow raised as a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, prompting Adams to imagine wiping that smug look off the footman's pretty face for good.

"Yes Really!" Adams replied, "Just push me a little more boy!"

"Remind me if things have changed, but aren't you prevented from hiring or firing anyone?" Will asked his expression innocent but his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh I don't think Mr Jarvis will need much prompting!" Adams retorted.

"And you think that after his behaviour last night he'd go out on that limb?" Will asked his smile broadening.

Adams glared at the footman, cursing Will for once making a valid point. "He's not the only one……"

"No he's not!" Will conceded cutting the under butler off in mid flow but then his smile turned into a grin and he added. "But somehow can you see Mrs Ryan giving me my notice? The sack however, now that's another matter entirely! But twice in one day? Maybe I should go pre-warn her, give her a chance to get herself ready?" And with that comment he turned and winking at George swaggered out of the hall, the rest of the servants staring open mouthed after him

Meanwhile in the upper servants dining room Jarvis sat at the head of the table, his dinner growing cold laying untouched on the plate in front of him. To his right sat his mother who every now and then looked up from her meal and gazed worriedly in her son's direction. He was just sitting there looking forlornly at the empty chair at the opposite end of the table, Flora had not turned up for a single meal since breakfast, and Jarvis had not been able to catch a glimpse of her since the night before. The atmosphere at the table was so tense, it could have been cut with a knife.

When he had entered with his mother all conversation had stopped and none of the other staff had got to their feet. They seemed to be led in this act of defiance and insubordination by Frank, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Jarvis once during the meal, preferring to lean back in his chair and looking down his nose at the butler; his perverted delight at Jarvis's misery obvious to all. Even Mrs Diggins had been subdued, so disgusted with the reports of the butler's behaviour that she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence or that of his mother at the dinner table.

But Jarvis barely noticed, waving aside his mother's queries over his untouched meal, he leant forward intending to refill his wine glass, but a sudden insistent cough from his right elbow made him pause. He turned his head slightly and caught the full force of one of his mother's patented pointed glares, the after a silent battle of wills Jarvis withdraw his hand and return to staring at his plate. Maybe his mother did have a point, it wouldn't do to finally bump into Flora once more stinking of alcohol! If only she would turn up to dinner, it wasn't like she had sent a message saying she would be late, or not attending, she just had to be here! There was just so much they needed to talk about, but how could they do that if he had no idea where she was?

In reality, Flora Ryan had intended to go to dinner that evening. Her talk with Rebecca had helped her gain some perspective on the situation, well it had at least allowed her a shoulder to cry on. However as she was making her way down to the upper servants dining room, she had bumped into Fred who was himself on the way to dinner. The first footman, had been running full pelt down the corridor and had to pause for a moment before he could catch his breath long enough to pass on his message.

"Mrs Ryan, Lord Julian would like to see you."

"What right away?" Flora asked, astounded at the aristocrats bad timing.

"Yes he said it was urgent, that it couldn't wait, he's in the music room with the Earl and Lady Caroline and Lady Faquherson."

"Very good Mr Matkin, I'll be there directly, you'd better hurry off to dinner or there won't be anything left!" Flora added, a slight teasing tone to her voice and Fred smiled broadly, standing quickly to attention and touching his forehead with two fingers, in an approximation of a salute before turning and dashing off in the direction of the lower servants hall.

Flora determined not to waste a second longer gathered up her voluminous skirts and strode quickly into the main body of the house, up the stairs and along the long gallery until she reached the music room. Pausing briefly outside to catch her breath, she listened to delicate tinkle of Lady Rebecca's laugh as it clashed terribly with the loud guffaw issued by the Earl, before knocking politely and then entering.

"Ah Mrs Ryan, good of you to be so prompt!" Lord Julian expounded gleefully as he practically jumped up from his seat at the piano, inadvertently slamming his hands down on the keyboard so that the poor piano seemed to scream out in pain.

"Well now she's here will you kindly tell us what the Dickens is going on?" The Earl barked.

"Yes Julian dear!" Rebecca cooed, "You've been acting funny all day, scampering about the place, whispering and keeping everything a complete secret!"

"Well it was supposed to be a surprise, so what would be the good in telling any of you!" Julian retorted, chortling to himself at his own cleverness.

"Julian, stop all that snorting and tell us what is going on!" Lady Caroline snapped, finally looking up from her au couture magazine and glaring frostily at her intended.

"Well actually my dearest, it's a surprise for you!" Julian replied, practically shaking from excitement.

This last bit of news seemed to please Lady Caroline, who for the first time in days actually smiled at her fiancé. "A present for me? Oh how wonderful, what is it? Clothes, Jewellery, a new horse?"

"Better!" Julian replied and he walked over to the door leading to the adjoining drawing room. "It's something you yourself said your were sorely needing and essential for the wedding to proceed as you wanted!" Then he grasped open the door and revealed a person standing inside, whose identity caused Flora to gasp in amazement.

Fortunately for Flora the reaction of Lady Caroline easily camouflaged her gasp of astonishment, on realising that her fiancé's surprise was nothing more than rehiring their old chef, she turned and with loud wails of disappointment ran stomping from the room, hurtling past Flora without a glance. Lord Julian and Lady Rebecca both exchanged worried glances before turning and following the sobbing girl, Julian's disappointment clear on his face whereas when Rebecca drew near to Flora she rolled her eyes and Flora had to stifle a giggle.

As soon as Rebecca had left Flora's attention returned to the chef standing slightly embarrassed and very much alone in the corner, just waiting for someone to speak. After a few moments the Earl got unsteadily to his feet and walked over to the decanter to refill his now empty brandy glass. Looking up at Mr Kraus he smiled slightly, "Well even if my daughter doesn't fully appreciate the gesture I most certainly do, your culinary skills have been most severely missed! Damn good idea of that Julian's to get you back!" Then he added quietly as if forgetting the servants' presence, "First sign of sense the boy's shown, he's normally the intelligence of a wilted cabbage leaf!" With that he himself retired leaving the two servants alone in the music room.

For a moment neither moved, Felix caught Flora's gaze and the depth of sympathy she saw there moved her greatly, she could feel the tears prickling at the back of her eyes. Slowly she moved across the room, and on reaching Felix he opened his arms and she practically fell into them, sobbing against his shoulder for the child she had lost. After a few minutes she regained some control and pulled away wiping at her face, lest one of the family should return unexpectedly; looking up at her friend she could see the questions burning in his eyes.

"Don't ask, please don't ask!" She blurted out, "I don't want to talk about it!"

"Then I won't ask!" Felix replied, seizing both of her hands and raising them to his lips placing a kiss on the back of each, his eyes lingering on her left hand noting the conspicuous absence of not only the engagement ring that was but the wedding band that by now should have been lying there.

"Like I said, don't ask!" Flora replied in response to his raised eyebrow, before linking her arm through her friends and walking with him slowly towards the door.

A few hours later, and Jarvis is sat in his darkened room staring at a bowl of jelly, but not even the exciting wobbliness of it could incite him to eat it. When Flora hadn't appeared, he had finally left dinner in more of a huff than he had really intended, making his poor excuses to the gawping faces, including his mother's, who was most put out her son had disobeyed her non-verbal instruction to stay right where he was and eat his meal. Instead he scooped up his bowl of jelly in a half-hearted attempt to placate her and made for the sanctuary of his now reasonably tidy room, leaving Emily to smile embarrassingly at a disapproving Mrs Diggins and a smirking Frank. 

Now, unable to find the stomach to eat it, he has stuck his spoon upright in the middle of the jelly and is leaning on his hands, trying to push it over with the power of his mind. When that obviously wasn't going to work, Jarvis sits back and sighs, thinking about his mother's possibly timely appearance at Taplows. He knows her heart is in the right place, but could she cause even more trouble, if that is possible, between him and Flora? Of course he loves her dearly, and now without his father she needs something to keep her busy, but not really knowing how long she intended to stay he feels almost a little trapped. He shakes his head, finally stuffing in a mouthful of his pudding – he's a middle aged man for goodness sake, he doesn't need his own mother to sort out his love life! And telling him he can't drink too much wine with his dinner; what could be coming next? Throwing his cigars into the lake because their smell isn't to her liking? Packing him off to see the doctor every time he coughs or sneezes? Dressing him in the mornings like she did when he was small just to make sure he's wearing his extra thick vest in the winter? Working himself up into a completely unnecessary frenzy, he fails at first to hear the footsteps approach his slightly open door, until….

Tap, tap!

Jarvis Without turning round, his tone angry and sharp: Look, I really want to be left alone right now, I know you mean well, but I'm just not in the mood! I'll speak to you in the morning, if you need anything I'm sure Flora will accommodate.

Felix shrugging and sighing: Ah well, then, I'll see you tomorrow. Your favourite for breakfast, I trust?

Jarvis' eyes widen and for a second he fails to move, but a broad smile spreads across his face and he swings himself out of his chair, almost knocking his bowl flying. Almost running up to the chef, he grabs him by his right hand, shaking it firmly, then to Felix's surprise he drew him into a big hug

Jarvis patting him on the back: Felix, how good to see you my good man! How long have you been back? Why are you here? How long are you here for?

Felix holding up his hands, grinning: So many questions, Walter! I am so pleased to be back, Prussia gets unusually cold this time of year.

Jarvis ushers him in, then scrabbles for a couple of glasses. Since his mother took it upon herself to tidy the place, he can hardly find a damn thing. Even his socks have been put in a 'much more sensible drawer', to quote Mrs Corey. Finally he finds the glasses – and the brandy – and sits opposite Felix, still grinning from ear to ear.

Felix brushing his hair back and settling himself down: Lord Julian asked me to come back as a surprise for Lady Caroline and their wedding, although I think I was too much of a boring gift to excite her much.

To the concern of Kraus, Jarvis frowns, gulping at the brandy before slamming the glass down on the table

Jarvis tapping the arms of his chair then rubbing his chin: Well, I certainly wasn't consulted on your return. Sometimes I'm treated around here like I don't exist!

Kraus sucking in his cheeks and looking at the bottom of his glass: I'm sorry, Walter, I didn't realise. I should have written, I……

Jarvis waving his hand and smiling apologetically: Oh, listen to me! I'm sorry Felix, I didn't mean it like that, I'm so delighted you're here, really I am. It's just that so much has happened since you left that I apologise if I'm a bit short tempered with you.

Kraus tipping his head to one side, raising an eyebrow at Jarvis: I can see that I have missed quite a bit. I saw Flora upstairs, but she wouldn't talk to me about anything. All I know is……..I am sorry about your baby, Walter. Really I am. But Flora just changed the subject, wanting to know about ME, for goodness sake. 

Jarvis sniffs a little, moving from his chair and stoking the fireplace. There is a moment of silence, the fire crackling noisily, until Jarvis bows his head, staring into the flames as they dance and glow in front of his eyes

Jarvis his voice breaking: It was terrible. Absolutely awful. It still is. That footman's father, hanging about in the chapel, scaring the living daylights out of her. Everything had been going so well until then, but now. I'm sorry Felix, what you've come back to. It's a Godawful mess.

Kraus standing up and cautiously walking over to his friend: But Flora – she looks so thin, like she's not been eating. I know I'm a good chef Walter but Mr Simpkins can't be all that bad!

Jarvis manages a weak smile, blinking back his tears as Kraus hands him another brandy.

Kraus his voice quiet and sombre: It is startlingly obvious, straight away, that neither of you have talked.

Jarvis looking at him pleadingly: I tried, I really did, I….But she just bottled up, wouldn't talk about it, she still won't. It's as if it has never occurred to her how losing my own baby could affect me. I didn't want to be selfish, but she has become so, so insular. 

Kraus scratching his forehead, obviously desperate to find the right words: And she has no ring? You aren't married?

Jarvis moving from the fireplace and pacing, obviously distressed: No, she won't. It seems that she has other interests now. I don't appear to matter much to her any more, she even says she doesn't want children at all now.

Kraus shaking his head and downing his drink: But you cannot give up on her, she needs you – and you need her. You love each other……

But in a moment of sudden absolute rage, Jarvis turns and growls, throwing his glass hard against the wall and causing Felix to stop mid-sentence and jump away from the flying glass, a look of horror on his face from the butler's outburst

Jarvis turning to him, his face red with anger and his fists clenched: Love! LOVE! I thought I knew what love was once upon a time! It all seemed so simple – I loved her, she loved me, get married, have children, all live happily ever after! But no, not at all! Always something there, always something wrong, always someONE ruining everything!

Felix, without saying a word, lowers himself back into his chair. During his time away he had almost forgotten how Jarvis' temper could get out of control – maybe he had shouted at Flora in this way? Maybe he had scared her off instead of caring for her and giving her time? If only he could have stayed, even if it meant small wages, he might have been able to help them salvage something at least.

Jarvis continuing, covering his face in despair: That Forest! How dare he do this to me, to us!

Felix confused: You shouldn't keep blaming him for his father's actions, Walter…..

Jarvis glaring almost accusingly at the chef: Oh, that was only the start, my dear friend! Only the very start! Unless my very own eyes deceive me our housekeeper has very much forgiven him his father – he's a deceitful, cocky little worm and if I could fault his work then he would be sent packing from this place with no character to cheer him! Do you know what he's been up to! Do you!

Felix shrugging, his eyes wide with a certain fear: No, I have no idea, but aren't you being a bit harsh……?

Jarvis ignoring his question and leaning against his desk: Sniffing around her, looking at her as if she has been put on this earth purely for his own enjoyment, touching her! Dancing with her, Felix! In front of everyone at the party, making a fool out of her!

Felix deciding to play devil's advocate, his eyes narrowing: Out of her, Walter, or out of YOU? Which is it! So he danced with her, we all like to dance, don't we? It was a party! It doesn't mean anything improper when a gentleman dances with a lady!

Jarvis banging the desk and making bowl clatter and a book slide onto the floor: He is NOT a gentleman! He is a young careless footman and she is a……a…..

Felix storming over to him, flapping his arms about and spinning: She is a what, eh! A middle aged woman who can't be made to feel a little special when a young man asks her for a dance! Oh come off it, Walter, she loves you – YOU! Anyone can see that! I have seen you two together, the way you look at each other, I know that……

Jarvis grabbing him by the shoulders and almost shaking him: The baby may have been his, Felix! Not mine! Don't you see!

Kraus tuts in exasperation and anger, pulling away from the panting butler and moving towards the door. But, as if changing his mind to leave, he storms back over to Jarvis, a scarily determined look on his face

Felix lowering his voice: I am sorry my friend, but you are being ridiculous! First you accused me, which I have forgiven and forgotten, but now you accuse another as if Flora is some sort of possession that another man has borrowed without asking your permission! Why do you do that? It's almost as if you want her to be unfaithful just so you can get angry and blame somebody else for everything going wrong, when you've only got one person to blame. And it's not Will and it's probably not Flora. It's you.

Jarvis, too stunned to speak for a moment, only wobbles on his feet slightly and stares with emotional exhaustion at Felix. But to the chef's surprise Jarvis doesn't yell again, or start throwing any more glassware, but instead lunges forward and hugs him again, the tears starting to roll down his cheeks as he grips him tight, his last hope for any reconciliation with Flora

Jarvis his voice broken with sadness and relief: I'm so glad you're back, thank God for you, dearest friend.

Felix frowns – it is a good job Jarvis can't see his face. Shutting his eyes he gulps, realising that his old friend is a very confused and hurt man, without any idea how to handle a woman's pent-up grief and frustration. He has no idea either, but he damn well vows to find out, even if Walter can't find the resolve to do it himself. As he bids Jarvis goodnight, telling him to get himself some well-needed sleep, it occurs to him – did Flora mention something about Walter's mother? Smiling to himself as he exits he resolves that this is someone he has just got to meet. Talking of people he must see he looks up and grins even more broadly as he sees another familiar face.

Felix beaming and stretching out his hand: Mr Adams! Well, well, aren't you looking good?

Adams, once again deep in his own thoughts, fails to register Kraus for a moment before almost walking straight into him. Jolting, he steps back and stares in surprise – the old chef is most definitely the last person he expects to see outside Jarvis' room.

Adams returning the hand gesture, slightly puzzled: When? Why are you back? Money fall out of the sky and into the Earl's lap, did it?

Felix laughing off the poor joke: Oh no, you have Lord Julian to thank, I'm here to prepare the food for the society wedding of the year! Kraus' ice sculptures are also too grand to miss out on, and it would not be a great occasion with Mr Simpkins producing his lumpy blancmange now, would it?

Adams turning to continue his walking, obviously in a hurry: Well, as long as you make enough for the rest of us, I won't be complaining you're back!

Felix pointing at Adams, grinning and winking: Ahh, no I've been practicing haggis while I've been away, it has been a speciality at my new restaurant! Luckily I have trained my employees to produce the said culinary extravaganza in my absence. I will make one especially for you, Mr Adams, and I'm sure I can rely on an honest opinion?

Adams walking backwards and beaming: I'll hold you to that one, now I must……

Felix hands on hips in a very camp fashion: Oooh, where are you sneaking off to at this late hour? Has Andrew Adams got himself a lady?

Adams staring in shock, a lead weight dropping into his stomach: A lady, Mr Kraus? Er, what could you mean, what sort of lady?

Felix walking next to Adams, who is glancing at his watch: Well I do not mean the aristocratic kind, Mr Adams!

Adams growing red and jittery with embarrassment: Well I did not for one minute think you did! I am not seeing anyone, nobody, at all. It would be wrong of a man in my position!

Felix clapping him on the back: Methinks thou dost protest too much, Mr Adams!  
The chef winks again, grinning and scratching his chin as he walks away from the under-butler and back towards his quarters to unpack

Adams waving his hands in protest: Well you can think what you like, it's not true! I often like an evening stroll, and as it's too chilly outside tonight I…..

Felix snorting in amusement and lowering his voice to almost a whisper: Felix Kraus is an astute man, I can tell these things, and you are even worse at lying than I remember! Whoever she is, I'm sure she's worth it. Don't worry, Andrew, I can keep a secret!

But before Adams can protest most strongly again at these allegations, Kraus has flounced off, laughing quietly and leaving him sweating and late once again. Is it THAT obvious, he ponders? Still, Felix Kraus isn't going to put him off, and waiting till he is out of sight he scurries along the corridor and up the stairs

Cut to Adams entering Rebecca's room, a flustered look on his face. He is astounded to see her sitting on her bed, but fully dressed, not even in her nightgown, her head buried in a book. She peers over the top of it at him, and with a sly smile waves him in

Rebecca flicking over the page and wiggling her stockinged feet: Oh Andrew, don't suppose you have any more of that cake?

Adams folding his arms and glaring at her as best he can: Not on me, no! Would you like me to go and fetch some so you can send me away without even so much as looking at me! I see your new best friend isn't here, well you can't just use me for your own enjoyment and then dump me as you see fit! And we have a lot to talk about, I mean, I'm not even sure that you love me, am I just a servant to you and making sure ALL your needs are satisfied is just part of my job description! But only when you FEEL LIKE!

Adams continues to rant, desperately trying not to look her in the eye, pacing up and down before slumping into a chair, sulking in annoyance like a spoilt little boy who has had his tricycle pinched by meanie Flora. Rebecca, trying desperately hard not to laugh or show any sign of amusement, places the book face down on her bedside table and decides to use her femininity to win him round. Knowing full well it will work eventually, she slides provocatively off the bed, looking at him with large, unblinking eyes and protruding her bottom lip in a sexy pout. Adams huffs, hugging himself with his arms and looking away without saying a word. No, he thinks, I will NOT give in this time. Rebecca sniffs delicately, loosening the back of her dress slightly then leaning towards him as if to trap him as he continues to sit in the chair, his head turned away from her. With her chin wobbling slightly, she glances round at him and manages to hold his gaze. Damn her, he thinks, damn her!

Rebecca her voice a little high-pitched, but still rather erotic: Aww, is Andrew annoyed with little me? Oh I'm sorry, my sweet, we were only talking.

Adams gritting his teeth and trying to prevent his heart from melting: Yes, about me, I bet!

Rebecca giving him a sultry smile and loosening her hair: I may have mentioned something about us to her, was I wrong to do so?

Adams his jaw dropping in absolute horror: You did WHAT! You TOLD her about US!

Rebecca running her fingers through his hair and nuzzling his temple: Oh, don't get cross with me! She is fine about it, honestly! We talked for hours, about you, about her and Mr Jarvis!

Adams glaring at her angrily: Oh, Becca, don't you know what you're getting yourself involved in! You're better off not knowing other servants' business, and as for me I would be out without a character if the Earl knew! And you would be ruined!

Rebecca frowning out this outburst, but then regaining her composure to stick with her plan: Oh you're so concerned for me, how sweet! Don't worry, she won't tell anyone, she understands!

Adams rolls his eyes and grunts in disagreement, but he knows full well that his frustration and anger with his lover is beginning to subside. She is beginning to win. Maybe this isn't really the time to talk things through with her, especially if she's in the sort of mood he thinks she's in. She knows him too well – it is certainly true he's not always ruled by his head, or his heart sometimes for that matter! He can't keep up playing hard to get for too long, for his own sake as well as her interest, so relenting slightly he lets her stroke his hand and place little kisses along his cheek

Rebecca slowly licking her bottom lip as she pulls him out of his chair: I don't want you to me angry with me, Andrew! I'm sorry for telling Flora, but you were so beastly with that tray that I had to tell her something!

Adams his voice finally softening but his tone a little stern: Well, just don't shoo me away again, I don't like it, Rebecca, especially when it is in front of another servant with whom you are having elevenses!

Rebecca lowers her head slightly but continued to fix his gaze, flickering her eyelashes at him and knowing that her victory is secure for another evening. Raising her head she leans up towards him, her lips slightly apart, then kisses him passionately to celebrate her success. Predictably, Adams isn't about to push her away, so what else can he do but return her kind gesture? It would be rude of a gentleman not to, surely. Gently lowering her onto the bed, he climbs on top of her and begins to finish off the job she started with her dress, nibbling along her slender neck. Lady Rebecca smiles to herself. It's always good to give a man what he REALLY wants she thinks, glancing up at her book, especially if a lady has a little something to discuss with him the following morning….


	4. Episode 4

Adams woke with a start, his head pounding from a bit too much champagne the night before and a strange haze over his eyes. It took a few seconds for him to register his location – of course, he must have fallen asleep in Rebecca's arms after an extortionate amount of physical exertion mixed with alcohol, and now he is paying for it. He grunts and tries to roll over, his back aching and his knees and arms throbbing in pain, but he very quickly notices that he can't. He is completely stuck.

A bit tied up, in fact. Focusing on his left hand it becomes all too apparent that his wrist is attached to one bedpost, his right one to the other. And both his ankles. And he is completely naked, although the bed is completely Rebecca-free. Immediately he begins to struggle, desperate to get free and check the time as it must be late – the light of the day is streaming through the windows and he is sure he should have been on duty hours ago. Suddenly he hears a very familiar female voice coming from the other side of the room

Rebecca glancing up from her chair, fully dressed and her book in hand: Ah, you're awake at last. Thought you'd never regain consciousness after your, erm, efforts last night!

Adams writhing on the bed in panic: Rebecca, let me go! NOW!

Rebecca looking back down and shrugging: Well, if you are going to be like that my darling!

Adams huffing loudly and quickly changing his tone: Alright, I'm sorry, dear. Please let me go, I would very much appreciate it.

Rebecca wrinkling her dainty lips and raising her eyebrows: Nope.

Adams flopping his head back in exasperation: Rebecca. PLEASE.

Rebecca her voice now very quiet: Nope.

Adams trying his best to keep cool but rapidly loosing it: What time is it? EH!

Rebecca drumming her nails on the arm of her chair: Oh, only early. Isobel won't surface for hours.

Adams suddenly remembered – the bet! With any luck she'll be tucked up warm with Fred Matkin and not give a first, let alone a second, thought to the idea that the under-butler may be tied stark naked to her Lady's bed. Adams continues to plead gently with Rebecca, trying to coax her over to him, use the charm he always had with her, but she hardly even replied. Surely he could use his manly appeal to win her over? If she could do it to him, why not the other way around?

Adams eventually, his wrists sore and his body cold: Why are you doing this? Do you enjoy having so much power over me!

Rebecca smiles naughtily and studies him. Yes the power certainly did something for her, although it always turns her on immensely when he wears his Caesar outfit and she can tie him up WITH his consent. After a good few minutes of his anguish she slowly lifts herself from the chair and saunters over to him, almost as if it were the norm for a man to be attached so blatantly to her place of slumber. Taking her book with her, and flicking the pages, she smiles when she lands upon the item she is looking for, although the contents of a lady's current read is hardly at the forefront of Adams' mind

Adams grimacing at Rebecca: Look, I really, really need to get up. I'll do anything, please, just let me go!

Rebecca leaning forward, brushing her nose against his and cooing: Anything?

Adams stalls for a moment – anything she suggests can't be too bad, and if it means supplying her with endless lemon cake and putting up with many of her conversations with whichever servant she pleases, then so be it.

Adams nodding but only half sincere: Yes, of course. Anything.

Putting his anger to the back of his thoughts, he kisses her, but she suddenly giggles a little too much for his liking, before thrusting the book under his nose

Rebecca pointing at the picture: Well you did say anything!

Adams has to blink a couple of times before it registers. Tilting his head slightly, focusing on the diagram, he gapes then looks up, startled, at Rebecca's beaming face

Adams chuckling in embarrassment: Er, well, it looks….erm….very cosy. I'm not quite sure how that seems to be happening, or quite what that is right in the middle, but, why are you……..?

It hits him hard, like a blow to the stomach, as blood rushes to his ears and he stops mid sentence. As it dawns on him, his eyes widen further and he shakes his head vigorously, desperate to get more words out

Adams his voice caught in his throat: Oh, no! No, no, no, no! You can't be serious! You can't! That's…that's disgusting! Oh ew! NO!

Rebecca blinking at him and pouting again, putting the book closer to him: Aw, please Andrew. Or, I'm afraid, I can't let you go.

Adams unsure whether to laugh or cry, the diagram looming in his face as his voice turns high-pitched: But with who! I mean I'm not saying yes or anything, but I'm curious, Rebecca! Who on earth would we ask to join in THAT sort of activity!

Rebecca rolling her eyes in exasperation: Well Flora, of course! Who else? Bloody Lady Caroline!

Adams begins to laugh loudly, Rebecca slamming the book shut and tutting, and for a while he thinks she is joking. Eventually his hysterics subsides and his expression turns to one of horror. She means it. She wants to invite the housekeeper 'in' to their nocturnal activities!

Rebecca spinning round and grinning: And I want YOU to ask her!

Adams struggling again: No, I say! No!

Rebecca stroking his face with a finger: Well, I can't let you go, sweetie. Such a pity. I'm sure if you thought about it for a little while you would see the benefits, and don't you find her a bit attractive?

Adams unsure if this is a loaded question: Well, I er, don't really think about, er, I suppose, not really sure, maybe – NO! I don't!

Rebecca tenderly kissing his lips: Oh I'm sure you do, just a little. I mean, of course I normally want you all to myself Andrew darling, but thought it may add a little spice to our relationship.

Adams almost spitting in disgust: A little spice! SPICE! If you want more spice then maybe I can add some nutmeg to your tea or something! But this, Rebecca, I don't know!

Rebecca playing with the scarf tying his left wrist to the bed: Please say you'll ask her. For me. If she says no, then fine. But if not, it is you my dear who is in for the treat!

Adams has absolutely no intention on asking Flora. Not a jot, not a slither of hope. But he is late. VERY late. And if either her or Jarvis notices his absence then Felix may say something and it could all get very nasty. Spying his clothes strewn across the room from the night before, his desperation gets the better of him

Adams sighing heavily: Alright, alright. I give in. I'll ask her. But give me time, it's a very difficult proposition for a man!

Giggling, Rebecca gives him a big kiss and quickly unties him, obviously believing him completely. Frowning, and not even trying to get his way with her one last time until their next encounter, he says very little as he dresses, although she is enthusiastically trying to show him more pictures from her little book. Adams tries his best not to look, but then considers maybe it is something he could borrow if for some reason she can't see him one night – what on earth is this Karma Sutra, or whatever it's called, anyway? With a cursory peck on the cheek (and a small pinch of her bottom – well he just couldn't resist) he shakes his head one last time before exiting. What a load of rubbish, he considers, this idea she has. Not at all interesting. Not at all. Disgusting. Obviously. Flora naked; naked with Rebecca – what man would want to think of that? Well not him. Obviously.

The next morning a determined and calmer Jarvis entered the dining room, only pausing for a moment when his glance fell on the now present housekeeper, an expression of both pain and relief dancing momentarily over his features. However he quickly recovered and after issuing a general Good Morning to all those assembled he sat down in his chair and reached for the toast, buttering it precisely before piling spoonfuls of Kraus's Eggs Benedict on to his plate with enthusiasm. As he was passing the bowl around the table Flora looked up from her tea and for the first time since their argument their eyes met. At first her eyes were full of sadness but then something seemed to change and her gaze hardened, her eyes suddenly were like smouldering coals and the extent of her fury made Jarvis sit back in his seat as if burned.

For a moment the pair continued to glare at each other; Jarvis was trapped by the intensity of Flora's anger and like a small cornered animal was unable to move. The spell was only broken when Flora's attention was diverted, her gaze turning to settle on Emily, who sat next to Walter had been watching their silent exchange with avid interest; her natural maternal instincts to defend her child kicking in as she witness her son being beaten down by the housekeepers glare. In turn she had started to glare at Flora, who realising instinctively she was being watched, had whirled her head round to return the gaze. For a moment the two women positively bristled, but then Flora seemed to reign in her anger and smile apologetically at the older woman, who in turn replied to the half smile with one of her own.

Typical Jarvis thought, his appetite for Kraus's superb breakfast waning fast, why was it Flora would back down to anyone else but not him? Well if she thought she could disappear off to her office or the laundry all day and avoid speaking to him at all then she was very much mistaken, he had a cunning plan that would ensure that she would have to spend most of the morning in his company.

Slowly the butler cleared his throat, gaining the attention of those present, "I will be holding a staff meeting in Mrs Ryan's office in half an hour, it is high time all arrangements for the upcoming wedding were finalised, I expect everyone to have a detailed plan regarding their areas of responsibility and the tasks to be assigned to each member of their staff. We don't have many spare hands so let's make those we do have work productively!"

Then Jarvis added, "Of course Mr Kraus I don't expect you to have your menus formalised, however if you would be so good as to liaise with Mr Simpkins, perhaps you could have a draft list of staffing requirements hammered out by lunchtime?"

"Actually Mr Jarvis, we already have a draft plan, we discussed it over breakfast!" Felix replied a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as Jarvis favoured him with a genuinely surprised and pleased expression, an expression that contrasted sharply with the burly cook sitting opposite the chef.

Simpkins expression was one of barely contained outrage, his pride had obviously taken a battering knowing that his cooking was not up to speck, and realising he was going to have play second fiddle to the foreigner. Jarvis realised that when Felix had said discussed he actually meant instructed, and the butler had to resist the urge to sigh, a struggle for power in the kitchen was the last thing he needed right now. He could see it all, the wedding day arrives, and he ends up having to cook the feast because the two cooks have declared war and were attacking each other in the pastry, using the delicious exotic desserts as ammunition, and Flora would be in the middle trying to placate them both and making as much of an impact as a snowball in hell.

Shaking his head slightly Jarvis got to his feet, and seizing the remaining slice of toast from his plate made his way to his office, intending read his paper until it was time for the staff meeting. As he settled behind his desk, and opened up his newspaper, he found his thoughts wandering once more to the looks Flora had sent him over breakfast, maybe she did have right to be angry, surely anger was better than no emotion at all? Signing to himself Jarvis sat back and pulled out his watch stroking the lock of hair its case for a few minutes before finally glancing at the time, there was still ten minutes before the staff meeting. Then suddenly inspiration struck him, what if he just happened to be early, there was every chance Flora would have gone straight to her office after breakfast, after all she would need to get her paperwork in order for the staff meeting. Smiling to himself Jarvis got to his feet and after a cursory check in the mirror and quick swipe at his hair, he turned and strode out of his office, along the corridor where the unsuspecting housekeeper sat alone in her office.

Jarvis paused for a moment outside her door, simply content to stand and observe her work, his eyes raking over her, following her hands as she reached out for assorted pieces of paper that lay scattered over her desk, remembering vividly the softness of her hands and the many caresses they had lavished on him over the past year. For a moment he had to blink back tears, he had to stop this defeatist nonsense; there was no way their relationship was ending like this! Jarvis raised his hand to knock on her door, but suddenly he realised to his own damnation he had know idea what he was going to say! This had to go right; if he didn't plan it carefully then he could end up doing more damage than good! Sighing softly to himself he stepped back into the shadows and wandered back along the hall to his office, opening the door sadly and slumping back down into his chair.

His attention returning to his unopened post, seizing the first few he drew out his letter opener and slashed carelessly through the first few envelopes, dragging out the sheets of paper inside and giving each a cursory glance before consigning each to their own pile, urgent, important, and those that could be overlooked for the time being. However upon drawing out one of the last letters he scanned the first paragraph, his brow drawing together in frustration and he flicked the envelope over, his gaze falling on the addressee, the letter wasn't for him it was for Flora! That stupid Johnny had inadvertently included one of Flora's letters in his pile. Slowly getting to his feet Jarvis seized the letter, intending to return it to the housekeeper and apologise for opening it.

However his hand paused on his door handle, although this letter would give him the perfect opportunity to talk to Flora it might also inadvertently be the trigger of another row! Could he risk her believing that he was opening and reading her mail, in effect spying her? Sighing to himself Jarvis shook his head, there was no time to decide now, perhaps later when he had a spare moment he would be able to read the letter and decide whether its contents made it imperative to deliver to its real owner. After all if it was just a bit of idle female gossiping what would be the harm of her never seeing it, it could so easily have gotten lost on the way here, that happens all the time. Relieved to have thought of a possible solution Jarvis strode over to his desk, and opening his drawer threw the letter inside, locking it securely before a quick glance at his mantle clock informed him he was late for his own meeting.

The almost the entire staff were assembled in the housekeepers office by the time he arrived, over five minutes late, but Jarvis chose to ignore their snide sniggers, and comments although he did decide to find someway of paying that snotty lout William Forest back for his succinct quip. One day he would be in a position to settle his account with the young footman, and on that day he wanted to make sure he had a full and complete record of every injury he had suffered at the hands of that particular delinquent. However before he could think of a suitable snide retort, the door that he had just closed behind him was flung open and a very out of breath Andrew Adams burst in, the under butler was bright red and panting heavily, his shirt creased and his neck tie so badly knotted Jarvis was certain his subordinate had dressed without the use of a mirror that morning.

"Delighted you could join us Mr Adams, please take a seat." Jarvis said, without missing a beat and he moved to the fireplace as his under butler flung himself gratefully down into the only available chair, opposite Mrs Ryan and Mr Kraus.

As Jarvis began to drone on about the upcoming wedding Adams struggled to pay attention whilst surreptitiously trying desperately to straighten out the creases in his uniform and ignore the amused glances being thrown his way by Felix. Typical Adams thought, can't he just leave it alone, he dreaded to think the direction the Chef's thoughts would be taking, the problem was they probably wouldn't be all that far from the truth! Settling back in his seat he tried to concentrate on what Jarvis was saying, but every few seconds he felt his eyes glaze over and he had to resist the urge to yawn, damnit surely it wasn't his fault the man was so boring. Instead he felt his mind start to wander as his gaze travelled around the room, focusing at first on the ceiling where for a few minutes he passed the time watching a spider scurry across the room.

Then as usual he found his thoughts returning to Rebecca, it had to be said that woman never failed to surprise him! But really her newest scheme had taken him completely by surprise, he had no idea she was interested in those sort of exploits! And expecting him to ask Flora Ryan, the outright winner of Miss Chastity Belt from 1845-1850! What gave Rebecca the idea that their straight-laced housekeeper would ever agree to something like that? As he pondered that question his gaze descended from the ceiling and settled on the lady in question, as if by studying her intently the answer would some how present itself.

She was beautiful, not in the same way that Rebecca was, in his opinion no woman alive could compare to the Scottish beauty, but there was something about her that he found attractive; not that he'd ever admit that to another living soul, let alone Rebecca. Women were decidedly confusing; Adams knew only too well that had he made a passing comment about finding any other woman vaguely attractive, Rebecca would have been incensed. However as it now fitted in with her own desires Rebecca was positively encouraging him to make advances to another woman. Adams shook his head slightly in disbelief, women he would never understand them!

But as his gaze lingered on the housekeeper, for a moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of her actually agreeing! After all it was never really going to happen, and he'd never expose himself to ridicule by even approaching her, but it didn't do his ego any harm to imagine! The prospect of both Rebecca and Flora in bed with him and catering to his every whim was not one that could be easily dismissed, and Adams smiled to himself imagining Jarvis reaction when he found out. Yes that would place the butler firmly in his place, Adams not only bedding the beautiful Lady Farqueherson but also Jarvis's former fiancé. He had to suppress a chuckle, wouldn't it serve the butler right to be told by his lady love that now she'd experienced a real man there was no way she'd ever return to the Butler's arms.

As if somehow sensing the under butler's intense scrutiny Flora shifted uncomfortably in her seat, shooting a puzzled glance in Adam's direction. He was sitting staring at her, his eyes practically boring into her, but he didn't seem to notice he'd attracted the housekeeper's attention. The reason for this soon became apparent to her, as on another glance over at him Flora realised where his eyes were locked, blushing slightly the housekeeper crossed her arms across her chest disrupting Adams from his mental wanderings and causing his eyes to jump upwards locking with the housekeeper's. However the look in his eyes almost caused Flora to gasp with shock, the under butler was looking at her with barely restrained lust, his pupils wide and his expression hungry.

For a moment Flora was stunned, but then she became angry, her face flushing now more from anger than embarrassment, how dare he ogle her, it was even worse now she knew he was involved with someone, how could he betray Rebecca like that? For a moment she sat there stunned, resisting the urge to openly show her disgust lest it was picked up by Walter, instead she settled for trying to stare down the under butler refusing to blink or look away first, but in response Adams just smiled lasciviously his eyes now raking openly up and down her body leaving her in no doubts as to the depraved nature of his thoughts.

Adams had to resist the urge to laugh out loud, how could Rebecca ever think Flora would be interested in joining them, she still got furious over a simple gesture of male admiration? But he still didn't tear his eyes away, preferring to wind the housekeeper up further. Knowing she wouldn't dare make a scene in front of all these people, he turned his gaze to an obvious leer and opening his mouth slightly ran his tongue along the bottom of his teeth his eyes locked firmly on her breasts. This seemed to incense her further and Adams smiled broadly as her colour heightened from a touch of pink to flaming red; the under butler knew that although he'd never get his hands on her skin, for him it was all to easy to get under it, and in the end the ultimate result was the same, she still got hot and flustered.

Meanwhile another occupant of the room had been watching this exchange with growing concern out of the corner of his eye. Felix Kraus had a good view of Andrew Adams but he could only see the side of Flora's face and so could only guess at her expression. He had been amazed at the looks Adams had been sending Flora, at first they had just been surprisingly soft and inquisitive but then after the housekeeper had noticed and the pair had locked gazes, Adams appeared to be trying, in his rather gauche way, to seduce her. What had him more amazed was that Flora seemed to be allowing it, her only response was to blush, and continue to gaze over at the under butler.

It was then that a horrible thought struck him. No that was impossible, Flora had always despised Andrew Adams, but there was no mistaking the fact that Adams hadn't slept in his own room and had appeared this morning in the same suit and tie that he had worn last night when Felix had caught him. His reaction to the chef's teasing had convinced Felix then that Adams definitely had a lady friend at Taplows! And he had been heading down the Upper Servant corridor not towards the maids room, why the only other place you could get to other than the senior staff bedrooms along that corridor was though one of the side doors and into the main house, and it was unthinkable for Adams to be conducting a liaison right under the noses of the aristocracy!

Shaking his head to try and dislodge the unpleasant mental images that had sprung up, Felix took a deep breath. He was being ridiculous, there was nothing going on other than Andrew Adams being his usual obnoxious self. He couldn't have been away from Taplows that long, that suddenly it would be acceptable to see Adams and Flora as a couple?

Finally after what seemed to be an eternity the staff meeting drew to a close, however a handful of the senior staff, having been otherwise engaged, stood up and moved to leave knowing little more about the upcoming wedding preparations then they did when they walked in. Jarvis had intended to commandeer Flora after the meeting but she slipped out with the rest of the staff, storming after Andrew Adams, sighing sadly to himself he heard the Earl's bell ringing and slamming his papers down onto her desk strode upstairs to see what the old goat wanted now.

After a few minutes of dodging past other members of staff Flora caught up with Mr Adams. She had purposely ignored Felix calling after her down the corridor, asking her to join him for a cup of tea; that could wait but dealing with Adams could not.

"Mr Adams!" Flora growled at the under butler, who stopped suddenly and turned round to gaze down mischievously at the diminutive housekeeper.

"Yes Mrs Ryan, and what can I do you for now?" He asked purposely twisting his words, so that they were loaded with innuendo.

"I don't expect a repeat of that display ever again!" Flora hissed, careful to keep her voice quiet so that the passing servants would be unable to overhear.

Adams raised his eyebrow in a fake expression of surprise, before replying "Display?"

"You know exactly what I'm on about, What Rebecca sees in you….." But Flora was unable to finish her sentence as an outraged Adams grabbed her firmly by the arm and pushed her through the nearby open door and into the silver room, slamming it shut behind him and pinning the housekeeper against the door.

"Not another word!" Adams growled. "Do you have any idea what would happen to her if people found out, about us, she'd be publicly disgraced?...And I thought you were supposed to be her friend?"

"I am her friend!" Flora replied indignantly, trying to pull herself out of the under butler's grip of iron.

"Then prove it! Start acting like one!" Adams hissed in her ear.

For a moment Flora was going to argue back, make a snide comment about how he could possibly talk, he was supposed to be in love with Rebecca yet he was willing to cheat on her with other women, but something in his eyes stopped her. He was really concerned about Rebecca, now his anger had subsided his fear for his lady was evident and instead she simply nodded her head. Adams relieved released her and stood back allowing her to open the door.

Pausing for a moment Flora turned back, "I'm sorry, I won't say anything to anyone! Just keep your eyes to yourself from on now on!"

"Oh Jesus lassie, I was only staring into space! I only carried it on to wind you up!" Adams retorted, trying to convince himself of the same fact but not quite succeeding on either counts judging by Flora's amused expression. Then just as the housekeeper was about to leave, he opened his mouth before he could stop himself. "Rebecca was wondering……" And then he stopped unable to continue, there was no way he could ask her, better to just make something up. "Urrgh…. Would you take her her elevenses from now on; I think she enjoyed having you to talk to."

Flora smiled and nodded shutting the door behind her and leaving a very relieved and confused Andrew Adams behind, certain that women would be the death of him.

Cut to the drawing room. Jarvis is stood in front of the Earl, who is sat forward in his arm chair, a tray on his lap with a writing book resting on it, open. He is booming instructions at his butler, but without looking up at him as he is concentrating on cutting out certain articles, highlighted in ink, from the day's papers. Next to him on the floor is a stack of every national newspaper available, and throwing down The Times and snatching up a copy of the Daily Dispatch he almost knocks over his glue pot. Jarvis can just about see that on one page the old duffer has stuck a picture of a possible sighting of Lord Fiffington-Piffles. Keeping a scrap book of every Fiffington-Piffle report the Earl comes across is a little obsessive, he thinks, but he can't really blame him considering that the bailiffs are going to be in after the wedding to turn his precious home upside down. For the first time Jarvis actually feels a bit sorry for him.

Lounging on the settee is Lady Caroline, Lord Julian standing behind her and every now and again trying to put his hand affectionately on her shoulder, but instead she keeps knocking his hand away and looking up at him, utterly disgusted. Next to her Lady Rebecca can sense Jarvis' boredom, and smiling cheekily at him she rolls her eyes and huffs, nodding in the Earl's direction as if so say 'mad old fool'

Jarvis a little confused at the Earl's latest request: Doves, sir? 100 of them?

The Earl sighing and concentrating on his scissors: Yes, man, doves.

Lady Caroline clapping her hands girlishly: Ohh Daddy, thank you, my wedding just wouldn't be complete without them!

She leaps up, leaning over to her father and kissing him on the cheek, but he flaps her away when she nearly puts her elbow in a freshly glued article. Julian, just as puzzled as Jarvis at the request, clears his throat to speak, but thinks better of it as he is just incidental to the whole day anyway. Instead he pulls out a small notepad, and looking Jarvis up and down he begins to make notes, causing the butler to feel even more uncomfortable than before

The Earl grumbling: Best give the girl what she wants! Might as well have her completely wipe me out, eh!

Jarvis smiling insincerely as he glances from one aristocrat to the next: Will that be all, sir?

Suddenly a small, croaky voice pipes up from the corner of the room by the window, where Lady Mary is sat shakily crocheting. She has been mumbling to herself on and off since Jarvis entered the room, but everyone just took no notice of the old biddy's babbling. This is in fact the first time she has been 'let out' of her room by the Earl for two days, so Jarvis considers that no wonder she is turning a bit barmy. She has turned slightly, only apparently having just seen Jarvis there, and is pointing at him and smiling

Lady Mary struggling to get up from her window seat: My dear Algie, back from the hunt so soon? I will call for your lunch straight away.

The Earl slamming down his glue pot as Lady Caroline sniggers: Mother he is not my dead father, how many more times do I have to tell you! He's the bloody butler for Christ's sake, now sit down before I order you out of this room!

Lady Mary does as she's told without questioning it, but she doesn't seem particularly upset, instead she returns to her mumblings and her crocheting as the Earl shakes his head and begins to frantically glue again.

The Earl giving Jarvis a cursory glance: Oh yes, one more thing Jarvis, I wish to see that William Forest after dinner, make sure he appears!

Jarvis desperately trying to not to sound perturbed: William Forest, sir?

The Earl his voice quietening slightly: Yes, it seems my usual winter problem has returned!

Jarvis unable to help a small smile: Ahh yes of course, M'Lord. I will make sure he is in attendance.

Jarvis glances in Rebecca's direction, who is managing to stifle a small giggle in the most ladylike fashion. He catches her eye and she winks at him – he has heard that Flora spent a good proportion of her afternoon with the Lady yesterday, and he is slightly paranoid as to what she may have told her about their relationship. Awkwardly, he looks away as the Earl continues to speak

The Earl wiping gluey hands on a handkerchief: And I need to speak to you at some point over the next few days, seems I'm going to have to cut some more wages if we're having a lavish do, what?

Lady Caroline bounces up and down excitedly on the settee, completely oblivious to the upset a further cut in servants wages could cause, but Jarvis is finding it difficult to not look in distain at his employer as he breathes deeply, before bowing slightly and edging towards the door

Jarvis: Very good, sir.

Rebecca calling over to him and waving her dainty hand: Oh Mr Jarvis? Would it at all be possible for me to see your chef Mr Kraus for a moment very soon? I would like to compliment him on his delightful haggis last night, most perfect, and I am curious as I have yet to meet this culinary master.

Jarvis liking her enthusiasm and her kind tone of voice: Indeed, M'Lady, I am sure Mr Kraus would be delighted. I will ask him to pay you a visit before he begins to prepare lunch.

Rebecca as if an afterthought: Oh, and would you also be a sweetie and ask Mr Adams to come with him, I need to speak to him too. About my lady's maid.

Jarvis shaking his head in confusion: Mr Adams, M'Lady, but I can……

Rebecca her eyes wide and pleading: Please, Mr Jarvis. I would be most grateful.

Jarvis smiles but notices to his surprise an expression of longing on her face, almost as if she is trying to tell him something, but what? Oh if only he could speak to Flora, find out exactly what she has told her, in the hopes that the passion in her eyes isn't directed at him! Why on earth would Flora choose to talk to some aristocrat about her problems and their relationship, rather than him? Rebecca's gaze focuses on the butler for only a moment, then it is as if she is staring through the door, longing to be somewhere else rather than with these stuffy old bores. With an 'as you wish, ma'am' Jarvis exits, leaving Rebecca to listen to the whines and whims of her friend and the boring chatter of her fop of a fiancé.

Cut to the servants courtyard where Fred, Joe and George are catching a supposed 'five minute' break. Nearly 20 minutes into it, and Joe and George are laughing in amusement at Fred's apparent misfortune. Fred is slumped on a step, shaking his head and glaring up at George who is almost doubled over and pointing at him.

George slapping him on the shoulder: Sure it wasn't you, mate? I mean, you're hardly a picture of beauty, are you!

Fred grinning mockingly before throwing a pebble: Yeah, yeah, joke all you like, but as soon as she's better, I'm telling you!

Joe leaning against the wall and grinning: Well, I certainly don't want her if that's what she does, and I bet you don't either, George!

George looking smug: Nah mate, you can keep her Fred. Johnny might, though – he doesn't get any action it seems, so he'll take anything I bet!

Enter Adams, looking stern and glaring at the three footmen

George: Hey Andrew, heard about Fred? He got lucky and unlucky both at once last night, poor sod.

Adams raising his eyebrows at Fred, thinking about his money: Really? So Mr Matkin's love life has kept you entertained for twenty minutes has it? I saw you lot go on your UNAUTHORISED break, and unless you want me to go running to Mr Jarvis I suggest you get your lazy bodies back to work!

Joe standing and gesturing towards Fred: Well I reckon he's lost his bet, but he won't give me his money.

George leaning towards Adams: Yeah, bit of what you may call a grey area. Fred got Isobel into bed, but then she pukes all over him. Flu apparently!

Adams sniggers in disgust, Fred's disappointment at missing out on his 'easy lay' obvious. Joe and George re-enter the house but Adams hangs back, indicating to Fred to come closer

Adams glancing around then whispering harshly: Where's my cut, laddie!

Fred now angry as well as disappointed: Joe won't give me the money! I don't think I lost, I mean the bet was to get her into bed, and I did! Look, don't worry, I'll get what he owes me, leave it to me.

Adams gripping his arm: Well, you'd better, or you'll be giving me money anyway. I say you won, so a deal's a deal!

Jarvis appears and calls from a little distance away: Ah Mr Adams, Lady Rebecca would like to see you. She's in the drawing room.

Adams quickly releasing Fred and swinging round: Of course sir, on my way!

What could she want? It can't be intimate as she's in a public room, unless she's alone and feeling a bit naughty. He grins at this, feeling a little more amorous than normal due to the images of Flora and Rebecca he created in his mind during the meeting. Well, only one way to find out!

Cut to the kitchens, where Kraus is finally settling back into his routine, much to Mr Simpkins' annoyance. The cook's hatred for his boss seems to have increased to a complete loathing, but the chef barely notices as he begins shouting his orders to his kitchen staff, including Lizzie who has been incredibly quiet since the business with Will at the party. To celebrate his timely return, Kraus promises an evening of cheese rolling to the most productive staff, and an evening of hard graft scrubbing the kitchen floor to the biggest slackers.

Felix inspecting the inside of the oven: This place is filthy, certainly not up to Felix Kraus' standards! Right everyone, I want a big clean up before we do anything in here, not so much as a carrot will be chopped until I'm satisfied!

All in unison: Yes Mr Kraus!

Enter Jarvis, who scans the scene and he is surprised that for the first time in a long while his heart is filled with joy. At least something is getting back to normal, and the sight of Felix back in his kitchen, where he belongs, brightens his day immensely.

Jarvis his tone more jolly than normal: Mr Kraus! Lady Rebecca would like to see you to congratulate you on your delightful haggis! She is in the drawing room.

A few of the maids snigger into their scrubbing brushes, glancing at each other at the amusing double entendre, but Jarvis just grunts and ignores them

Kraus looking a little worried to leave the cook in charge for even a minute: Yes of course, I will come straight away Mr Jarvis.

Abandoning his cake tin, the chef walks towards Jarvis, hurrying him out of the door and taking him to one side

Felix looking at him sternly: Have you spoken to Flora yet?

Jarvis sighing and glancing down at his shoes: Er, no, not yet, I…..

Felix placing a hand on his friend's shoulder: But you must! You cannot go on like this, she's upset!

Jarvis: But you've seen the way she looks at me! She can't stand the sight of me, so she's hardly going to kiss and make up now, is she? Be realistic Felix!

Felix in complete despair, turning to walk down the corridor: I am being realistic! Oh, I give up, I really do!

And with that he storms off, his jacket and hair flying out behind him, leaving the butler with his thoughts to watch him walk away

Cut to Adams approaching the drawing room, a slight bounce to his step and a lively whistle emanating from his lips. Stopping abruptly just outside it, he clears his throat and tugs on his waistcoat before adjusting his neck tie. Just as he is about to reach for the door handle he hears footsteps behind him, and swinging round he glares as Felix Kraus bounds up to him, a broad grin on his face

Adams looking him up and down, a sharp tone to his voice: What the hell are you doing here?

Kraus clapping him on the back: I have been summoned by the good Lady Rebecca, what's your excuse, my friend?

Adams realising no treats for him then, worse luck: The same.

both men reach for the handle at the same time, but then Kraus knocks lightly on the door and a high-pitched 'enter!' comes from within. Adams snatches at the handle quickly, throwing the door open and sliding in just ahead of Kraus – well he should have priority, he thinks, he is her lover after all!

Rebecca her eyes brightening as she beams: Oh, both at once, how spiffing!

Adams is unsure if this is some sort of quip due to her request that morning, or whether she is playing some sort of game by inviting them both at the same time. Surely she doesn't want to have a go with Felix after Flora! Adams and Kraus edge into the room, both glancing at each other then at her. Fortunately the other aristocrats have gone, including the Earl, although he has left a few glue patches on the carpet which some poor maid is currently scrubbing at, but to no avail.

Adams giving Rebecca a knowing look: You called, m'Lady?

Rebecca looking him up and down: Indeed I did, and may I say Mr Adams how delightful you are looking this morning!

Adams nods politely, successfully masking his uncomfortable confusion. Maybe she likes this sort of thing too? Torturing him in front of others with dangerous comments that could be taken the wrong way, pushing it right to the edge but stopping just before anyone could begin to suspect?  
Rebecca turning her attention to Kraus: Mr Kraus, although I met you briefly when you first arrived, I just wanted to have a talk with you, I have visited Prussia once before and I love the accent!

Kraus bowing slightly and smiling: Your Ladyship is too kind, I'm sure.

Rebecca jumping up and sauntering over to him: Oh not at all, Mr Kraus, not at all! A place like this needs a bit of class in the kitchen, and I also hear you like a bit of cheese rolling!

Adams, feeling the jealousy beginning to build in his stomach, grits his teeth and stands tall, not taking his eyes off Rebecca for a moment.

Rebecca gliding towards the window: You must show me cheese rolling, Mr Kraus! Next time there is game, I MUST come down to the servants quarters to watch, get me away from here with nothing but sewing and the odd bit of reading for company!

Kraus barely hiding his amusement: Why of course, you are most welcome to attend, although I must warn Your Ladyship that it can get a little bit noisy and competitive, you may wish to listen from the safety of another room instead.

Rebecca giggling and waving her hand towards him playfully: Oh Mr Kraus, you do flatter me, although I am no delicate flower! Those who know me well would, I am sure, agree, is that not right, Mr Adams?

Adams almost steps back in shock at the question. He had been too busy keeping silent, annoyed at her flirtations with the chef and desperate to pull her away and ask her exactly what she's up to, wanting to come down to the servants quarters. Does she want to get found out?

Adams mumbling into his collar: Er, well, I am sure you have your sensitivities, m'Lady, but I am hardly the person to ask……

Rebecca shooting him a glance and raising her eyebrow: Were you not under-butler at Highlands, Mr Adams?

Adams flushing: Well yes, but…..

Rebecca moving towards him, running her finger suggestively along her bottom lip: Then you will have observed me over that time, will you not?

Adams gulping hard, desperately trying not to look at Kraus: Well, from afar Your Ladyship, as a member of the household should.

Kraus, completely unsuspecting of Adams' nervousness or Lady Rebecca's teasing, just stands and smiles. Little does Adams know that the idea that the Lady and Andrew Adams are having any sort of romance couldn't be further from the chef's mind. If Adams had have known this, then maybe he wouldn't be sweating quite so much or shaking quite so hard

Rebecca almost trying to provoke Adams into fainting on the spot: But did I not play croquet very competitively, Mr Adams? Do I not have an incredible ability to win at poker? And do I not, Mr Adams, enjoy riding bareback?

Adams his mouth dry and his head pounding: Bareback, m'Lady, I, er…..?

Rebecca grinning cheekily, her eyes darting from him to Kraus to gage reaction: Oh, you remember, Mr Adams, I'm sure! I can recall a few occasions when you were there to help me mount, don't say you've forgotten.

Adams the heat rising from his collar and up his face: You may very well be right, m'Lady.

Rebecca sighs, moving close to Kraus who is still completely oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation. He smiles, obviously impressed with the outgoing nature of this particularly refined young lady, as she gently takes his hand.

Rebecca whispering naughtily to him, but loud enough for Adams to hear, her gaze focused on him: I've even straddled my stallion before, Mr Kraus, so very bad of me I know! It's side-saddle for me from now on, I think!

If Adams had felt bad before, then now he feels even worse. Her insinuations and suggestive glances are far too much for him to cope with, but he tries to remain expressionless and prevent himself from catching her eye for too long

Kraus kissing her knuckles: I am sure that a lady of your stature, Lady Rebecca, has only the disposition to be graceful in everything she does.

Adams could have vomited at this fawning, screwing his face up in disgust as his mistress continues to flirt with Kraus through small-talk for the next minute or two before finally congratulating him on a fine haggis

Rebecca waving towards the door: Well, thank you, Mr Kraus, I look forward to your next culinary delight, and I am so pleased you will be preparing the wedding feast. Do come and visit me again, won't you, and remember the cheese rolling!

Kraus bowing and moving towards the door: Of course, Your Ladyship is most welcome.

Rebecca asks the maid to leave along with Kraus as her efforts on the carpet are obviously not working, so Adams waits for them to exit, forcing the door shut as soon as the chef has gone through it then storming up to Rebecca, his face red with anger and his breathing heavy

Adams: What on earth are you playing at, eh! EH!

Rebecca raising an eyebrow in mock surprise: Playing at, my darling? I don't know what you mean! Andrew you are paranoid – he doesn't suspect a thing.

Adams his voice strained: I have every right to be paranoid, Rebecca! Your….your…smuttiness nearly got us caught and I for one cannot afford that!

Rebecca sniffing lightly as tears spring to her eyes: Are you saying that you want to end it? That you don't want to see me and that you don't love me any more?

Adams his shoulders sagging, knowing she's twisting his words: No, that's not what I'm saying at all, we just need to be careful that's all.

Rebecca her chin wobbling daintily: I couldn't bare to loose you again, Andrew, I called you up here because I wanted to see you as I rarely get to speak to you during the day at the moment. I thought inviting myself along for cheese rolling would be another way to be near you

She begins to squeak, tears rolling down her cheeks, but although Adams wants to comfort her, he also wants to yell at her to stop crying, desperately aware that the Earl could barge in at any moment, booming his orders only to see his guest in tears with his under-butler looming over her. He decides that shouting would probably only cause her to squeak and wail even louder, so he takes the subtle approach. Gently he draws her into a hug, kissing her tears away and running his fingers through her ringlets. He then moves her over to the settee, sitting her down and clasping her hand

Adams nuzzling her nose: Oh Rebecca, you need to calm down. I want to be near you too, I really do, but you know how difficult it is.

Rebecca her voice almost a squeal and her eyes still sparkling with tears: Oh but Andrew I can't bare to be with these people, I thought getting away from Highlands would be good for me, but Caroline and I just don't connect any more, and now Izzie is poorly I have no maid and I can't manage my corsets by myself all the time!

Adams giving her a nudge, grinning and whispering: Well, you know I can help you with that any time you like!

Rebecca raises a smile through her dainty sobbing, tapping him playfully on the leg and kissing him tenderly

Adams cupping her chin in his hand and looking into her eyes: Look, I will speak to Mrs Ryan about a new maid, at least that's something I don't feel embarrassed asking her about.

Rebecca smiling gratefully as Adams stands to leave: Please come to me tonight, you've not worn your Robin Hood outfit yet!

Adams nods, kissing the palm of her hand and after formally asking her 'will that be all, m'Lady?' he bows courteously and exits as any good under-butler should. She may be his mistress but she is also a wealthy heiress and certain protocol should always be followed even when they are alone, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He frowns, thinking back to the chef flirting with Rebecca – maybe he knows after all? After pausing for a moment, Adams shakes his head, as if regarding the notion as silly, and heads off back towards the servants quarters. It's been a while since that William Forest had a good hiding, so maybe it is time to remind him that being a cocky sod will only get him a bloody nose – maybe another Glasgow Kiss is just what the boy deserves?

Flora Ryan, although still slightly shaken from her encounter with Andrew Adams, is very much looking forward to taking Lady Rebecca her elevenses. Putting their little discussion to the back of her mind, she notes the time then finishes scribbling down the most recent purchases of brandy and sugar in her book of figures before departing her office for the kitchens and the still room. Hurrying down the corridor, she passes George and Fred who are sniggering at an unsuspecting Joseph, who quite unknown to him has a 'kick me' sign pinned to the back of his uniform. Stopping and swinging round, Flora chides the two footmen, unpinning Joe who is glaring at them

Flora shaking her head and forcing the sign into George's grasp: Haven't you two got anything better to do! As Mrs Diggins would say, idiot grins on idiot faces, now hurry along, His Lordship will be needing you soon!

The footmen just nod as, with a swish of her skirts, Flora continues down the corridor, leaving Joe to grumble at his colleagues, hitting Fred on the arm as George continues to snigger.

Once in the kitchen, which is decidedly devoid of staff due to a meeting called by Mr Kraus, Flora disappears into the larder momentarily, before returning with one of the lemon cakes. Impressed that Felix had found the time to produce so many of his specialities since his return, she cuts it up and prepares the water for the tea. Glancing around, she realises that the kitchen is nearly out of tea leaves, as most of the tea preparation tended to happen in the still room, so tutting gently to herself she decides to leave the cake uncovered for a moment while she went and fetched some.

So, once again, the kitchen stood lifeless, until less than a minute later when a rather peckish butler appeared, a newspaper tucked under his arm. Glancing at his pocket watch he shakes his head; to his annoyance there isn't a maid in sight to prepare him some much needed sustenance, so what on earth is he going to do? Muttering 'typical', he is just about to leave again when his gaze falls on a rather yummy looking, freshly baked cake sitting untouched on the table, already cut into wonderfully thick slices. Smiling naughtily to himself, he checks he is safe from prying eyes, and snatching a slice quickly places it on a nearby china plate before pouring himself a brew with the left out tea leaves - just the right amount left for one cup. He quickly decides to try out the cake there and then, so he stuffs half of it in his mouth then picks up his cup of tea and awkwardly balances it on his newspaper, the last bit of cake in the other hand.

Turning to leave, half regretting shoving in quite so much cake all in one go, he stops suddenly, his eyes widening in shock as he sees the housekeeper in the doorway, a look of surprise and mild curiosity on her face. Jarvis tries to talk but can't, his cheeks stuffed with cake and a guilty look spreading across his features. He reminds Flora of a hamster, storing its food in its pouches, so she can't help a small giggle as he gulps down the cake, obviously feeling like a small boy who had been caught pinching biscuits from the larder.

Jarvis nearly dropping his cup as Flora continues to laugh: I, er….there wasn't anybody here to prepare me anything, so I…..well I'm glad you find this amusing, Mrs Ryan!

Flora scalding him, but rather light-heartedly and with an amused tone: But you know full well that this cake in particular is reserved only for the Earl and his guests, Mr Jarvis, if he knew what you are stealing.

Flora bustles past him, placing the tea on the table and sighing – he has used all the boiling water on himself, so she has to boil up some more, and now she's getting late for Lady Rebecca. Why did he always have to be so selfish? She paused, something causing her to glance up at him – he is staring at her, clutching his tea, but the humour of the situation seems to have completely eluded him, his face hardening as their eyes lock. Pulling away from his gaze, Flora busies herself with the tea as Jarvis bangs his plate down hard on the table and moves towards her, leaning in so he is in whispering distance from her

Jarvis expression steely and voice dangerously low: So are you going to tell him then, eh, Flora? About the cake? Maybe you could use my plate as evidence, although if you'd rather not then I suggest you throw it into the fire like you are accustomed to doing!

Flora turning to him, glaring: I thought we agreed never to mention that again, this is not the same, it was a joke, or have you lost your sense of humour as well as your senses! It seems obvious to me that you have no intention of being civil! Why do you have to be so belligerent!

Jarvis, instantly regretting his unnecessary outburst, thinks back to his heated discussion with Felix the other night and takes her elbow just before she snatches up the tray, forcing her to look at him. Instantly noticing the tears springing to her eyes, it is almost instinct for him to soothe her by touching her face and brushing away free strands of hair, but he thinks better of such sudden intimacy between them after all this time and reluctantly moves a little backwards from her. Whether she had wanted him to be near her he is completely unsure, but from the sadness and hurt in her eyes it seemed to him unlikely

Jarvis anger leaving his expression and forcing an apologetic smile: I'm sorry, Mrs Ryan, I….I shouldn't have said that, it was mean and I apologise. Mr Kraus shouldn't make such wonderful deserts!

Flora looking down at the tray and sniffing: No it's fine, really. The stress of the wedding preparations is getting to us all, especially when we are so short-staffed these days.

Jarvis sighing heavily but his eyes never leaving her face: And now His Lordship says he has no choice but to cut wages further, now that Lady Caroline insists on bloody doves for the wedding.

Flora picking up the tray and raising her eyebrows: Doves! Whatever for! That's ridiculous that really is, next he'll be wanting to cut the lower servants' meal rations, or maybe he thinks we could all do without food altogether?

Jarvis holding open the door for her: Well he does want us to kill Mrs Stanwick, so we could probably fill some sandwiches for lunch, keep us going a little longer before we're all too weak to carry out our duties. Then the master will have to take notice, surely, otherwise how will he ever get up in the morning, never mind feeding himself?

Flora glancing at him as she exits: I presume you mean Mrs Stanwick the bird, rather than the woman?

Jarvis grinning cheekily: Well, you never know!

Flora stops, almost unable to look away from him. Jarvis' expression turns serious and he stops smiling, but a certain softness and longing in his eyes draws her in and holds her stare for a moment that seemed like a lifetime. Flora's mouth parts slightly, biting her bottom lip as her breathing quickens and her heart pounds, but suddenly realising her hands are beginning to shake she looks away and begins to walk quickly away. But Jarvis, unable to resist, calls out to her from the doorway

Jarvis trying to hide the emotion in his voice: I still love that dress on you, you know. The one you're wearing.

Flora gasps and halts in her tracks, her knuckles whitening as she grips the tray. She doesn't turn round, knowing how awkward she already feels, and instead hangs her head, as if waiting for him to say more – willing him almost – while she feels those damn tears beginning to appear again

Jarvis taking a step forward but still keeping his distance: The blue – it compliments your eyes, but then you know that. How I like you in it. Especially when you wear your hair down, like you used to for me, when we were alone. Flora, I…

But he stops, as if the words are catching in his throat and they just refuse to come out. But to his delight Flora finally looks at him, over her shoulder, and allows herself a small smile. For a second he doesn't smile back, unsure what to do or why he suddenly said what he said, but somehow it had felt right and so he returns the gesture, a very, very small step towards a possible friendship again. Anything more still seems unthinkable, but this at least is a start. This doesn't stop him marvelling at her beauty, he had almost forgotten what it is like to see her smile, and he feels a warmth soothing his heartbreak for the first time in what seemed like months now.

Without a word, Flora turns back and walks off, but Jarvis can't help noticing a slight spring to her step that hadn't been there a minute ago. Then, his eyes brightening, he turns back to the kitchen and sees the remainder of his cake. At long last at least something had happened to please his mother - for the moment at least, his appetite has seems to have returned with gusto.

Whilst the butler eagerly consumed his cake, Flora Ryan made her way into the main stairs and up the stairs heading to Lady Rebecca's room. However her thoughts were far from the task in hand, they still dwelled very much below stairs, what had just happened? One minute they had been having one of their typical fights and then the next Walter was backing down and apologising! She had never seen him ever give in so easily, and he almost never apologised, well unless he had done something really awful, like forgetting to tell her about his first wife, but under normal circumstances and over something so simple normally he was as stubborn as a mule and twice as moody. There had been a time when she had found that sullen stubbornness attractive, however when faced with it on a regular basis its charm had quickly faded, his inability to admit he was ever wrong had driven more than one wedge between them; but now it seemed he was making a conscious effort to change, maybe if he……

But the housekeeper never got the chance to pursue that line of thought to it's natural conclusion, as she reached the top of the stairs only to be confronted by Mr Adams.

"Mrs Ryan!" He exclaimed relieved at having found the housekeeper. "I've been looking for you!"

"Really, what for this time Mr Adams?" Flora asked a teasing note entering her voice, "I thought we'd said everything that needed to be said this morning?"

"No, nothing to do with THAT!" Adams retorted his voice squeaking in fear as he quickly glanced over his shoulder afraid that at any moment Rebecca might put in an appearance. "It's about Rebecca's maid!"

"What about her?" Flora asked puzzled.

"Well she sick and Rebecca was wondering if you could lend her one of your maids till Isobel recovers?" Adams asked a slight pleading tone entering his voice.

"Well normally I am not responsible for assigning ladies maid positions, that responsibility lies with Mrs Diggins, however I promise you I will see what I can do, your lady will be sorted by the end of the day I give you my word; although how we're going to cope with one less pair of hands downstairs is anyone's guess!" Flora added shrugging her shoulders in a gesture of defeat before turning and making her way down the West Gallery to Rebecca's room.

Reaching to door, she knocked slightly, and was surprised when the door was suddenly opened but only by an inch, just so the occupant could see out. When Rebecca realised who it was she opened the door just far enough to allow the housekeeper to enter, before slamming it shut sharply behind her when Flora had entered. The reason for this secrecy soon became apparent as the lady in question was in a serious state of disarray. Her dress from that morning had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor and the aristocrat was running around the room in her underwear, desperately trying to get into her riding habit but failing miserable, her auburn ringlets becoming snagged and tangled as she tried unsuccessfully to pin on her hat.

At first Flora just stood their amazed before bursting out into laughter, hurrying over to the dressing table to put down the tray before she inadvertently split tea all over the place.

"Oh fine laugh at my expense!" Rebecca said, throwing herself down onto the chaise lounge an expression of complete and utter exasperation on her face as she watched the housekeeper try and regain control of her giggles. "Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me?" Rebecca added.

"Oh for goodness sake get up, I'll help you!" Flora replied as she caught her breath, reaching out and seizing the dress by the shoulders before walking over to Rebecca and helping her into it. For a few minutes neither woman spoke being far to preoccupied with working out the complicated construction that went into a fashionable Victorian riding habit. Finally as Flora was lacing the dress up at the back, a now much calmer Rebecca was able to address the other issue that was foremost in her mind, namely whether Andrew had gotten round to asking her to join them the following evening.

"Flora dear, has Andrew been able to have a word with you in private?" She asked her eyes wide and pleading as she grasped the housekeeper's hands in her own and pulled her down to sit next to her on the chaise lounge.

"Yes he informed me about your request!" The housekeeper replied, thinking to herself for once Adams was right, finding a new ladies maid was a definite priority, there was no way Rebecca could cope on her own, she'd probably end up singeing her hair if she ever attempted to curl it herself! 

"And?" Rebecca asked, a look of gleeful anticipation on her face.

"Well I told him the truth, normally Mrs Diggins is the woman to ask for those sorts of favours…"

"Mrs Diggins!" Rebecca replied horrified, terrifying images immediately springing to mind, most of which revolved around being smothered to death by some of Mrs Diggins's more ample attributes!

"But as it's you and you're a personal friend I promised this time I would get involved!"

"Oh wonderful! Flora I promise you won't regret it!" Rebecca exclaimed practically jumping out of her seat in excitement.

"I'd better not! I wouldn't do this for just anyone you know!" Flora added at first a stern expression on her face, but that quickly melted when she saw how pleased her friend was with her news. "Well I'd better be going I have a million and one things to do!"

"Of course, of course, how selfish of me to keep taking up all your time when your on duty, come and see me after you finish tomorrow and we can have a nice long chat, there are so many things I can't wait to show you! But now isn't the time!" Rebecca replied getting up from her seat and escorting the housekeeper to the door.

"I'll look forward to it!" Flora added smiling back at her friend, as she opened the door and made her way back downstairs.

Rebecca smiling to herself shut the door and leant back against it, before whispering "So will I!"

Lunch time in the servants quarters. Everyone is tucking into their much-deserved cold meat and potato after a hard morning's work, muttering about how this wedding will be the death of them and it hasn't even arrived yet. Will is telling anyone who will listen, George being a prime target, how Lady Rebecca had commented on his legs the previous day, and how she is obviously desperate to get into his long-johns, while Adams scowls at him, gripping his knife in one hand and stabbing at his potato with his fork as if it were Will's head on his plate.

George shovelling his food in as if he hadn't eaten for days: Yeah, of course mate, just what you said about that Mrs Stanwick and look what happened to her? Legacy of a peacock and a ruined ornamental pond. You need to watch yourself with women, mate!

Grace winking at George and smiling: Yeah Will, you need to get yourself a good girl, one that'll clean your shoes, not the other way round! Anyway the rich don't know what they want.

Charlotte reaching out for the salt: Until Mr Jarvis tells them, as we all know only too well! Like a stuck violin he is with that same old line! Anyway Gracie's right, she's probably just testing you out!

Will puffing his chest out: Nah, that little minx knows just what she wants and how to get it, I reckon! But I'm saving myself for the right woman, not just some bit of posh totty in her sexy riding gear!

Adams suddenly leaps out of his chair, scraping it back noisily and slamming down his cutlery. Grace and Charlotte gasp and jump, while Lizzie stares at her father in silent horror as he leans over George and forcefully grabs Will by his collar. He drags him out of his seat so his nose is inches away from his, knocking the footman's half full plate down his legs and onto the floor.

Adams in a fiercely low whisper: Just shut your ugly face, will you! Can't keep your opinions to yourself for one minute can you, eh, Forest! Without the likes of that so-called 'posh totty' the likes of you and me would be out of a job, so have some bloody respect for a change!

And with that he roughly shoves the startled footman back into his chair as everybody else stares, some with forkfuls of food half-way to their mouths, others in mid-slice. Will glances at George, a look of anger and embarrassment on his face, then down at his empty placemat where his rations had once been. Damn that Scotch fool, he curses to himself, can't take a bleedin' joke,twisting his words just so he can make a show of him in front of everyone.

Charlotte suddenly lively as she tries to brighten up a tense moment: So, girls, any guesses for Lady Caroline's dress? I've seen a picture in her room, and that might be it!

Lizzie and Grace exchange unenthusiastic glances, but smile politely at their fellow maid before attempting to carry on the rather dull topic of conversation. A moment or two later, Will tuts, a twisted expression of anger contorting his features, and swings himself out of his chair, kicking it in fury. Adams, gritting his teeth, is about to lunge at him again, to force him to sit and wait while everyone else eats, but thinks better of it

Will walking backwards towards the exit and throwing his napkin at the table: This is ridiculous! Every meal time you have to say something, I've always done something wrong, well this time I'm not staying for it, and anyway there's little bloody point when all me dinner's on the floor!

George trying desperately to placate his friend: Ah, come on Will, I'll give you some of mine, no worries!

Adams a sarcastic tone entering his booming voice: No, let him go, he can starve for all I care, and anyway he's putting me off mine! As long as you come back to clean up your mess! You seem pretty good at fouling up the floor, so you should be well practiced by now with the old mop and bucket!

Will clenches his fists, but without a word he glowers at the under-butler before turning and storming out, leaving George despondent and the dress conversation in limbo. Hardly another word is said, Lizzie occasionally watching her father, wondering where on earth it had all gone wrong between her and the two men she cares most for at Taplows, even now, after everything. They had completely failed to notice how much it hurts and upsets her, and how Adams seems to totally ignore her unless she presents an opportunity to get at William Forest. Maybe she should have stayed at Balmoral, near her sick mother, instead of hoping that her waste of space father might want her and love her.

Lost in her thoughts, it takes her a minute to register that Adams is staring back at her, but instead of asking her what the hell does she think she's staring at, making a show of her, like he would do with anyone else round the table, his hardened expression almost turns to one of guilt and shame. Without smiling, Lizzie glances down at her ham, the tears beginning to swim in her large eyes as she gulps them back. Grace places her hand on her friend's arm, and subtly catches George's eye. Why did Andrew Adams have to ruin everything? Is he so untouchable that nothing he does ever comes back to haunt him? Everyone knows how he treats Will, including Mr Jarvis, so why on earth hasn't he sacked him by now? Does he always have to turn a blind eye? It is a complete mystery to everyone as they sit and slowly chew in silence. Surely, one day soon, he would get what was coming to him?

That evening, Fred has finally managed to catch up with Joe in private to demand his long-awaited cash before he became the under-butler's next unsuspecting victim. Desperately wanting to avoid giving Adams a reason for him to be a substitute for Will, Fred grabs his colleague's arm roughly in the corridor and drags him into the footman's quarters, glancing manically around for prying eyes

Joe louder than Fred anticipated: Hey, get off, will yer! What's your problem now!

Fred shutting the door and whispering: The money, you idiot! I need it!

Joe folding his arms and shaking his head: Oh no, I've told you already, you're not getting a penny! You lost, I'm afraid, don't care what you say!

Fred a look of desperation in his eyes: Well you will do when I end up on the end of Adams' fist!

Joe's superior expression turns confused as Fred slumps into a chair, sighing heavily. Joe, slowly starting to cotton on to what Fred may have gotten himself into, chucks his wig onto the table and sits down next to him

Fred head in his hands: Look, Andrew gave me some tips on how to get Isobel into bed for a cut of my winnings, alright? And he says I won, so now he's out for blood and I don't have the cash as I need it off you!

Joe throwing his arms up in despair, realisation hitting him: Oh you're joking! He told me to put a huge bet on you, that you had less chance of bedding chaste Isobel than you'd have seducing Mrs Diggins! Pure Isobel doesn't know one end of a man from the other, apparently, has never had a man in her life!

Fred totally bemused; a bit slow on the uptake: But she seemed pretty keen to me, hardly needed to follow any of his advice as she was on me like a cat on heat……oh for God's sake!

Fred throws his head back, his face pained, then flops forward, thumping his head on the table and groaning loudly.

Joe completely infuriated: Yeah, well, duh! He's conned us you fool! A big bet from me means a big win for you, and a big cut for him! He's not stupid, you know!

Fred: Unlike us, of course!

Both men sit in silence, drained, Fred with his hands on his head and Joe's expression like thunder

Joe his voice determined: Right, that's it, we've got to give him the money, if not he'll give you a good kicking then he'll probably give me one too for good measure.

Fred sarcastically retorting: Well cheers mate, thanks for all your concern for my wellbeing! Why don't we just give him all our wages and be done with it!

Joe almost grinning at his colleague's naivity, but then lowering his voice and leaning in: No, we'll give him the money, then we'll get it back! Look, I know that I don't often have them, but I have an idea……

The next morning Emily Corey rose early, she had never been a woman who was content to laze about once she was awake, at home before Walter's father had become too sick she had always taken a morning constitutional before breakfast and she thought to herself that it was high time the routine was reintroduced. Dressing quickly and warmly against the winter chill, she made her way downstairs and for the next thirty minutes acquainted herself with the long winding paths in the gardens at Taplows. Heading in from the garden, she pulled off her gloves blowing hot air on to her icy hands in an attempt to warm them through, one thing was certain if she was going to survive the winter here then a trip into town to purchase some thicker winter garments was a necessity, who knows with any luck she might be able to persuade Flora to accompany her, and if Walter just happened to bump into them for tea, well all the better.

Smiling to herself she made her way through the house to the kitchen, intending to make herself a quick cup of tea before the hordes of maids descended and started cooking up a storm. She was just boiling the water when on the side she noticed some freshly baked bread, looking around to see if anyone else was around she quickly cut herself a slice before rooting around the shelves to find the lemon curd that was always laid out on the breakfast table, she was just spreading it over her slice of bread when an amused chortle disrupted her thoughts. Whirling round she caught sight of the Prussian chef standing leaning against one of his work counters, his arms crossed and his floury hands leaving marks on his work coat, an amused expression on his face. Emily embarrassed at being discovered felt her face turn slightly pink, but she refused to be brow beaten by someone young enough to be her son and so did not look away in shame.

"Now I see where Walter gets it from!" Felix said his amusement at the situation clear in his voice.

"Gets what?" Emily asked intrigued as to her son's behaviour when he was not around her.

"His preference for lemon curd and his propensity for midnight raids on my kitchen!" Felix retorted unable to restrain a chuckle or two. Then once he had regained control he added to his guest. "Mrs Corey I do not believe we have been formally introduced, I am Felix Kraus."

"The chef extraordinaire, yes I have heard Walter mention you once or twice. Delighted to make your acquaintance Mr Kraus." She said holding out her hand.

"Felix, Please… I do not stand on ceremony especially around someone I consider to be an ally to the cause." Felix replied a slight smile tugging at his mouth as he seized her hand but instead of shaking it brought it up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

"An ally to the cause?" Emily asked bemused by the Chef's choice of phrase. "What cause would this be?"

"Ahhhhhhhh….well it's a rather delicate matter I have decided to form a society, called the Mutual Associates For Instigating Assignations, and I have a space available on my board for another like minded individual, as it has struck me since my return there are certain couples here at Taplows who are need in desperate need of a helping hand from somebody and as cupid appears to be on holiday I think it is about time someone, or someones stepped into his empty shoes!" Felix replied in a hushed tone, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Don't you agree Mrs Corey?"

"Yes indeed Felix I do! And after all it is the role of a Good Samaritan to lend aid to all those in need!" She replied smiling as Felix began to nod so furiously his chefs hat slipped down into his eyes, before adding quietly to herself a note of steel entering her voice, "Whether they want it or not!" 

Mid afternoon, and Adams still hasn't got his money off Fred. And he had worked out exactly how much the footman owed him - £1, 5 shillings and sixpence, allowing for a high rate of interest, of course. So, before allowing himself the pleasure of attending Lady Rebecca, whom he hoped to find walking the gardens on this fine late autumn day, he has a business matter to attend to with young Mr Matkin, and due to the Earl expecting a visit for afternoon tea from the vicar to discuss church arrangements, he knows exactly where to find him.

Walking purposefully into the footman's changing quarters, he is greeted by a wall of chatter, none of which is directed at him. Will is first to notice him as he adjusts his stockings, and snarls at him before turning away to fasten his shoes. This gives Adams an enormous amount of satisfaction, so can't help a hollow smile, but Will isn't the only footman who seemed to be avoiding him.

Adams scanning the room in dissatisfaction: Where's Fred? Anyone seen him?

Joe feigning surprise, glancing round as if it is the first time he has noticed his absence: Oh dunno, he was here before, think he said something about wanting to give you something? He seemed right jumpy, insisted that he found you straight away, so must've gone off to find you. Is everything alright, Mr Adams?

But before he can reply, Frank appears smugly in the doorway, looking down his nose at the men climbing into their liveries. Leaning against the wall, he grins at Adams who gives him a nod of welcome, but George suddenly busies himself with his shirt, desperate to avoid conversation – in the current climate all everyone needed was more fighting amongst the servants, and George for reasons of his own preferred to keep rather a low profile where trouble is concerned

Frank patting Adams on the shoulder in a friendly fashion: Great to chat last night, mate, shame that His Lordship was puking up all over us at the time!

Will sniggers slightly, giving George and amused glance then combing his hair in the mirror. Frank snorts at this, giving Will the once-over but deciding against saying anything – he prefers to leave him to his friend Andrew and concentrate on manipulating certain other members of the household, and anyway he is sure that if needs be Adams would only be too pleased to give him a good kicking on his behalf.

Adams moving to leave, looking in amused distain at Will: Yes, indeed it was, Frank laddie, I think we're very much going to get on while you're here. Whip this lot into shape!

Frank saunters off, laughing to himself, almost bumping into Fred as he comes rushing down the corridor, sweating and panting. Reaching Adams, he leans on the wall, a look of desperation etched on his face as he fumbles roughly in his pocket

Fred breathing sharply: Oh Mr Adams, finally! Look, I've got your money, I'm so sorry for the delay, I felt so guilty in the end, I…..

Adams grabbing his arm and dragging him a little way down the corridor: Shhh, will you! You don't want Joseph to know I gave you tips, do you!

Fred gulping, almost kicking himself for his stupidity, his expression pained: Ahh, well, of course not! In my hurry I almost let slip! Hehe!

Adams rapidly loosing his patience, his eyes wide and angry: Where is it then? Come on, I've got work to do!

Fred pulls out the mixture of coins and shoves them into Adams' palm, but the under-butler isn't about to let him go without counting to make sure. He had got rather a good head for figures since his gambling days, so it takes only a split second to realise he has been short-changed

Adams intimidating Fred by backing him up against the wall: Hey, what are you trying to pull! I'm missing a whole five shillings and sixpence here! My interest, I call it, unless you'd rather have my fist instead!

Fred is about to argue back, to point out he's a lucky sod and shouldn't have got a penny, let alone a pound, but realising it is best not to annoy him further if their plan is going to work as successfully as possible, he sighs, rolling his eyes as he delves back into his pocket, finally producing enough cash to satisfy Adams. Not wanting to spend another minute in the under-butler's company, he signals the end of the 'conversation' by sliding from the wall and heading into the footman's room, shaking his head a cursing. Adams, with a smug grin and a chuckle, flips one of the coins then trots off down the corridor, desperate to find his next, yet rather different, conquest. Growling quietly at the thought of it, he heads off to find the ornamental pond, where he hopes it will be eagerly waiting for him

Stopping a little way from her, his breath catches in his throat as it always did every time he clapped eyes on the beauty of the woman he had loved, lost and loved again. He often remembers the first time they met - on Rebecca's 25th birthday - and how the sheer magnitude of her radiance had captured his very soul. She had just returned from riding, her cheeks flushed and her manner boyant, and the newly appointed under-butler felt true love - and true lust - for the first time in his life. Her attraction to him hadn't been quite so instant, but her subtle glances and sultry smiles over the years had given him some joy, and some hope. Her admirers and dancing partners had come and gone, all considered by Lady Rebecca as bores and unconcerned with her interests and wellbeing, while her father's patience wore thinner and thinner with each passing London season and Adams found himself being increasingly drawn towards her. Her naivety and insulated upbringing had been an interesting distraction from the drinking, the gambling and general life in servitude, and her alluring sexuality excited him much more intensely than any woman he might have picked up in town.

It hadn't taken long for her to seduce him - Rebecca had known full well how much he had long desired her, although partly because he could never have her. Until then. After a brief discussion by the Highlands estate lake with regards to the Lady's luncheon, she had looked deeply into his lustful gaze before guiding his hand up through her petticoats. From then on their affair flourished into an intense whirl of secret liaisons and nocturnal fun, but a few weeks later, he was out of her life for nearly an entire year. He had never thought that they would ever meet again, let alone that she would take him back – the positive Adams concluded that she must love him dearly, but the more cynical, and usually stronger, side of him presumed it must just be his acrobatics under the sheets that keeps her interested. Still, either way, she is a young, unattached and strong-willed Lady who needs wooing carefully, although maybe not as gracefully on his part as one of her aristocratic admirers.

Quietly and slowly he walks towards her, his eyes roaming over every inch of her as she peers into the pond, a parasol tipped over her left shoulder. She runs a finger across her lips, a heavy look of concentration on her face as if she has something a little unfortunate weighing on her mind. But, to Adams' delight, she suddenly brightens, a delicate smile forming as she marvels at the specially imported coy carp swimming close to the surface. She begins to hum softly to herself, oblivious to the smitten servant approaching her.

Adams had cut a single rose from the garden, a beautiful deep red one with petals as fine as his love's ringlets. Smiling to himself, he moves behind her and swings his arm in front of her, presenting her the rose and causing her to raise her hand to her chest in surprise

Adams moving dangerously close to her for such a public place: My Lady, may I say how positively glowing you're looking today.

Rebecca giggles, swinging round to him and taking the rose before raising it to her nose and seductively looking at him over the petals. She quickly kisses him playfully then turns to peer into the pond again as Adams kept a good look-out for prying eyes

Rebecca her voice wistful: Such a shame you couldn't come to me last night, I had nothing to do but read and sit with my own thoughts.

Adams subtly brushing her waist: I know, I know, but Lord Julian was sick and Mr Jarvis insisted I stay with Frank and look after him.

Rebecca laughing and stepping away from the pond: Oh, Julian and his delicate disposition, why he's more fragile than bone china that fellow, such a completely ghastly drip. I would question dear Caroline's sanity if I didn't understand her motives!

Adams gently grasping her gloved hand: It's Mr Kraus' cooking, apparently. Not bland enough and in Lord Julian's words, 'too foreign'.

Rebecca letting him remove her glove and kiss her palm: Well, because you stood me up, again, I don't know if I can let you have your little present this evening.

Adams realising she was playing games to prompt his curiosity: Oh, a present, eh? And what KIND of gift would that be?

Rebecca snatches back her glove and teasingly slides away from him, walking round the side of the pond and humming again to keep him guessing. She looks towards him and sees him watching her, the same intensity of excitement in his eyes as that eventful day by the lake. Smiling she sighs and licks her lips

Rebecca: Well, as I say I don't know if you deserve it now, and I doubt our other participant would disagree with me.

Adams slightly alarmed but still intrigued: Other participant? I thought you meant a present of the, well, physical kind, but I suppose if you mean something like a game of cheese rolling I don't mind as long as afterwards I get you alone.

Rebecca calling him over with her finger, a sultry smile fixed on her face: Oh no, Andrew, not cheese rolling. You were right first time. She agreed. Most keen she was!

Adams' eyes widen and his heart begins to thump wildly, but still he isn't completely sure exactly what Rebecca is telling him. He walks towards her but his legs seem a little wobbly and his feet unsure of their step so he nearly slips into the pond, but a giggling Rebecca manages to grab his arm and thus avert disaster

Adams clutching onto Rebecca for support, his voice shaking and flustered: Who agreed to what? Do you mean……her…..doing it……she will…..in bed……you asked!

Rebecca now laughing so hard she has to hand him her parasol: Yes! The housekeeper indeed! She agreed much more easily than I might have thought, my dear Andrew, I knew she must have been hiding a side to her, no wonder poor Mr Jarvis couldn't cope!

Adams pulling himself together slightly due to the public nature of their meeting: Shhh, someone might hear! Keep your voice down! Are you telling a little naughty lie to me, Rebecca sweetheart? You can't have asked her, she would never say yes, I'm sorry to say it but not every woman finds me as attractive as you do, especially not Flora Ryan!

Suddenly they both hear the sound of moving gravel and a hurry of footsteps heading their way, so Adams leaps backwards away from Rebecca, standing upright with his hands behind his back. Rebecca smoothens her skirts and continues around the pond as the steps get closer, and a red-faced housekeeper comes rushing by, her thoughts obviously elsewhere

Rebecca smiling brightly and waving daintily at Flora to catch her attention: Coo-ey! Mrs Ryan!

Flora turns her head and stops, returning the smile before noticing that Adams is stood there too. Very quickly working out that she may be interrupting something rather personal she resolves to move on a soon as possible, although she does notice something that causes her to grin even more broadly

Flora waving back, her skirts swishing manically around her: Oh Lady Rebecca, good afternoon! I hope we are still on for later, I am very much looking forward to our little get-together! I'm sorry, but I have to rush, Mrs Stanwick – oh that's the peacock – he's been at the herbs again and we're desperately trying to rescue them.

Rebecca winking at Adams and causing him to blush uncontrollably: Of course my dear Flora, later it is, and don't forget that I have things to show you!

Flora nodded, still smiling, but looking at Adams in the most peculiar manner: Mr Adams, I wasn't aware that you enjoy shall I say more unusual practices?

Adams gapes, shooting a horrified glance at Rebecca who shrugs, then tries to look as un-anxious as possible at the amused housekeeper

Adams almost lost for words as his brain struggles to form a coherent sentence: I can't say I know what you mean, Mrs Ryan, I'm not sure what Lady Rebecca's told you about us and our activities but I certainly don't make a habit of anything!

Flora her expression now a little shocked as she too turns pink: Oh, no Mr Adams, I only meant…..the parasol you are holding behind your back, I was just joking, er….!

She puts her hands up to her burning cheeks as it suddenly dawns on the under-butler that he is still holding the damn thing, so he pulls it out from behind him and shoves it at a sniggering Rebecca, who gladly takes it off him, the damage now apparently done. Flora quickly bids her goodbye, trying desperately to get any thought of Adams in a compromising situation with Rebecca out of her mind, and hurries away from the most awkward of moments with her colleague. How would she face him now after that little misunderstanding! She would have to apologise to Rebecca later on being so unintentionally crude. What if she had offended the Lady?

Adams sure he is about to have a heart attack with stress: So she HAS agreed! That's…but what about Mr Jarvis, I…..!

Rebecca grinning cheekily and nudging him, her eyebrow firmly raised: Well, if you want him to come along too, I'm sure I can ask him also, he's not bad for a butler.

Adams almost giddy with all the bizarre thoughts swimming in his mind: You know that's not what I meant, Rebecca! Look, I don't know if I can do it tonight. And no I don't just mean tonight, I mean at all. Ever!

Rebecca running her fingers down his face, her voice soft and inviting: Oh just try it, I'm sure you'll like it. Once it's there, before your eyes. Come to my room a little while after she has left, make sure you see her leave first, I want to see her on my own first.

Adams gulps, breathing heavily – just the two of them at first? Together? This could possibly be the death of him, conceivably during the actual activity itself. In desperate need of a sit down and a stiff drink, he barely notices as Rebecca kisses him farewell and almost skips away from him, humming again, but this time a little more jovially. Well, thinks Adams, he can't let her down two amorous women now, can he? That would be just ungentlemanly. But, he considers, after tonight he will never be the same again, especially around his most esteemed colleague Flora Ryan!

Meanwhile in the Footmen's room young Mr Forest was slowly getting changed, cursing his own bad luck; this was his second shirt today, and yesterday he'd had to change his trousers after the incident with Adams and the collision with his dinner. At this rate Mrs Ryan would be docking his wages in order to meet the costs of all his laundry. He had just pulled his shirt off over his head, shivering slightly in the cold air, when the door was flung open and the housekeeper stormed in, her face like thunder. However when she caught sight of Will standing in only his essentials, it seemed to knock the wind out of her sails, flushing with embarrassment she looked quickly away.

"Mr Forest when you're decent come to my office, I think it's about time we had a word about that smart mouth of yours!" She added turning quickly and without another glance at Will strode back along the corridor to her office.

For a moment the footman just stood there dumbstruck, then a smile slowly crept across his face, and he quickly dressed, whatever she was going to tell him off about he was certain it would be worth it just to be alone with her. As he walked down the corridor he stopped for a moment outside her door, gazing at her through the glass, before giving his neck tie one last adjustment and with a quick knock he entered the room.

"There is no need to sit down Mr Forest you won't be here long!" The housekeeper called out from her alcove, gathering her book figures, pen and ink up from her desk and carrying them over to the dining table. "It has come to my attention that…. well I have heard that you having been spreading certain rumours, not only about myself but now also about a certain houseguest of ours, and…."

"Who told you I was?" Will snapped, cutting the astounded housekeeper off in mid flow, slowly walking towards her closing the distance between them until he was only a few scant inches away and could gaze intently into her eyes.

"Well it was… does it matter who it was?" Flora replied, flustered by Will's behaviour.

"It does to me. I'm fed up with everyone spreading lies about me… All the time people sniggering and pointing the finger. Adams picking on me all the time, twisting my words and using them against me, just so he has an excuse to be as rotten as always! And now even YOU don't believe me?" Will trailed off throwing himself into a spare chair, his head in his hands.

"Will, I want to believe you!" Flora began, pulling up another chair and sitting down beside the footman, hesitating only for a moment before she reached out and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Will turned slightly in his chair so he faced her, reaching out he grasped both of her hands firmly with his own and pulled her slightly towards him, "Then believe me!"

"But these things people say you've been saying?..." Flora tried once more to get back to the point, the rumours she had heard would not be so easily put aside.

"They're twisting everything, they just want to turn everyone of my friends against me, have everyone abandon me just so they can have the satisfaction of destroying me for their own perverse amusement. These rumours, I was just sticking up for myself and for……" Will stopped suddenly getting up from his seat and pacing to the window.

"For yourself and who else Will?" Flora asked, a worried expression on her face, but the footman did not answer, instead gazed stubbornly out the window his arms crossed across his chest. Getting to her feet Flora walked over to him and placing her hand on his arm gently turned him round to face her. "Were you defending me, is that why everyone is talking?"

Will looked into her eyes and stepped forward closing the space between them, lifting his hand he softly brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I just wanted to protect you. I thought that if I commented on Lady Farquherson then everyone would finally leave us alone! You've already been hurt enough, and I just can't bear to see you upset."

For a moment neither of them spoke or moved, then Flora Ryan lent forward her eyes full of unshed tears, and placed a lingering kiss on the footman's cheek, that was all the opening Will needed and before she could pull away he had turned his head, and kissed her firmly and passionately on the lips, instantly bringing his hands up to cradle her face so she could not immediately pull away. For a moment Flora was too stunned to react, her thoughts jumbled and confused, she found herself swept away by the sensations his touch invoked responding on instinct. Encouraged by her response Will released her face, sliding his hands down her body he wrapping his arms round her waist manoeuvring her slightly so she backed up against the casement before stepping forward and trapping her firmly between his body and the wall, moulding himself against her.

It was only when his hands began to wander that Flora suddenly came to her senses, this was wrong, they shouldn't be doing this, she was the housekeeper he was a footman, she was old enough, well not quite….. In vain she tried to push him off of her, but when she raised her hands to his shoulders to push him away, he grasped her wrists and forced her hands down by her sides, his mouth still plundering hers mercilessly. Finally she was able to wrench her lips away from his, and release her hands from his grasp, dazed and gasping for breath Flora leant back against the wall her chest heaving as she struggled to regain control. Will had only stepped a few feet back, himself leaning on the dining table for support whilst his eyes never left those of the housekeeper, and Flora could see his barely contained lust.

"How dare you?" Flora began once she had caught her breath. "You had no right…"

"What to kiss you? Funny, for a while there you certainly didn't seem to mind!" Will replied, his voice deep and laden with passion. "In fact quite the opposite, you wanted that just as much as I did, and if you wanted me once, then…?" Will trailed off suggestively as he began to move towards her.

Flora held her hands up to make him stop. "That is never going to happen again! We will never even mention it, we won't even think it!"

"Fine deny this ever happened if that's what you need to do, but you won't certainly stop me thinking it! Even if I wanted to, nothing could block this from my mind, I'll always remember! Do you think so little of yourself that you believe any man could just forget you? The way you feel, the taste of you, the way we fit together so perfectly as if we were always meant to be one!"

"Will stop, please stop, this is suicide! We'd destroy each other, everything either one of us has worked for, it could never work between us! The age gap alone…"

"Do you think that matters to me?" Will asked.

"It matters to me! You are so young, I'm the housekeeper you're the footman, we're worlds apart it could never work between us, besides I'm still love with Walter."

"Why he doesn't deserve you! He never puts your needs first, I would never hurt you like he has, besides it's over between you! You would never go back to him after everything that he's done, and would have done if we hadn't stopped him, he would have raped you, you do realise that!"

Flora flinched as if Will had slapped her, the shock at having someone so publicly state what everyone believed but had never mentioned. "No he wouldn't, you don't know him like I do anyway none of that matters now, I know it's over I ended it remember, but I still love him he's the only one…. I can't just stop, no matter what he says or does, I only have room in my heart for one person!"

Will sighed loudly and walked towards the door, his hand resting on the door handle for a moment before he turned and locked his gaze with the housekeeper, "Well then it's clear to me what has to be done, I'm going to get him out of your heart if it's the last thing I do!" And with that he turned and opening the door wide strode purposely out into the corridor a determined look on his handsome face, leaving a confused and worried Flora Ryan behind him.


	5. Episode 5

Later that evening the senior staff gathered round the dining table, Jarvis sat at the head of the table and after saying grace everyone assembled began to tuck into Kraus's delicious food with gusto. After spooning a rather large portion on to his own plate, a fact that made his mother smile broadly before returning to her conspiratorial whispering with Felix Kraus, Jarvis looked down the table his glance settling as usual on the housekeeper. Frowning slightly Jarvis noticed how she had only served herself a small portion, and even this she appeared to be pushing around her plate rather than eating, her mind obviously far from her meal or even the people surrounding her. Felix was right as usual, she had lost weight and if she carried on not eating she could make herself ill, sighing to himself he decided a quick word with chef was in order, he was sure between the two of them they could engineer ways to feed her up.

However had Jarvis realised the actual bent of her thoughts, then his immediate concern might not have been the housekeeper's weight but rather the location of a certain footman and how many blows it would take to beat the bd senseless. Flora hadn't been able to put the events of that afternoon out of her mind. What was Will going to do? She couldn't bear this not knowing, if he hurt Walter then it would be all her fault! She hadn't meant to give the footman the wrong impression, she knew now she should have pushed him away the first time he had kissed her, preferable with a sharp slap to go with her expression of outrage. So why hadn't she? Why had she given in to him at all?

Then that small vindictive voice in the back of her mind spoke up, 'maybe because only part of you wanted to stop it?'

No that was ridiculous, her consciousness raged against the lone voice, 'I'm in love with Walter I don't feel anything for William Forest!'

'I never suggested you were in love with him, I only meant you found him attractive!' The small voice's meaning echoing in her mind.

'I do not! I don't want him near me!' Her heart replied.

'REALLY?' The voice replied, and Flora could hear mocking amusement in its tone. 'Then why did your pulse race when he touched you, why did you respond to him so easily, so willingly, admit it Flora you do desire him physically. That is nothing to be ashamed of, he is very attractive and there is a part of you that wonders; what it would be like with another?'

'No, I don't' She replied, but even in her own mind her protests were sounding less and less convincing.

'Come now Flora, there's no need to feel guilty, do you really think that whilst you were with Walter he never once looked at another woman with interest, that he never imagined what it would be like. He didn't enter your relationship without a history you know, haven't you ever wondered whether when you were together he was ever thinking about someone else?'

That was the final straw and Flora slammed her fork down onto her plate, the loud clatter creating a sudden lull in the conversation as everyone turned and looked towards the housekeeper. Embarrassed and upset Flora got quickly to her feet and avoiding the puzzled glances, especially Walter who was so concerned he rose slightly from his chair preparing despite their estrangement to follow her out of the room to find out what was wrong. Just as he was about to take her arm, she stepped away from him, unable to look him in the eye afraid he would be able to read her thoughts, she raised her hands to stall him waving aside his concern. "I'm sorry there….there is something I need to attend to, please do carry on without me." And with that she turned and with as much control, as she could muster strode purposely out of the room.

As soon as she was out the door, she felt her control slipping and seizing her skirts she began to run back to her room, however just as she turned the corner outside of her office she stormed straight past Mr Adams. Bemused at finding him loitering outside her office for no apparent reason she turned and headed off towards the still room, planning on picking up the few treats she had prepared for hers and Rebecca's little get together. At first she was so immersed in her own thoughts she didn't notice him following her from a discreet distance. However whilst she was putting the tray, of lemonade and shortbread together she caught sight of him as he peeped around the door, before disappearing again. Sighing to herself Flora wondered just what the under butler was up to this time, glancing down at her tray she realised she had forgotten the glasses. Walking over the cupboard she pulled out two glasses, then realising why Adams was probably loitering she grasped another glass; she bet he only wanted to know how long she was planning on being upstairs so he could slip up after she'd left, so she might as well leave him a glass for when he eventually put in an appearance.

Down the hallway the clock chimed eight and quickly Flora grasped the tray and pushed the door open, dashing out into the corridor and bumping straight into a surprised Andrew Adams.

"Wow there lassie, there's no need to rush!" Adams chuckled as he helped the housekeeper regain her balance, saving the tray from an untimely flight. "You could have finished your dinner first?" He added a broad smile spreading over his features, as he realised just how up for their little get together the housekeeper appeared to be. "You shouldn't go skipping meals, no matter how eager you are to get upstairs, I'm sure Rebecca would prefer you late and full of energy, than early and falling asleep halfway through the evening!"

"I just wasn't very hungry, too many things on my mind, though I'm grateful for Rebecca's invitation I'm sure tonight will do me the world of good give me the chance to exorcise some old ghosts, take my mind off of my troubles……. I do appreciate you allowing me to spend time with her, I understand all too well how little time the two of you have alone, and it can't be hard having to share…."

"Oh well yes, don't you worry, after all sharing has its own rewards!" Adams replied, leaning in closer to Flora and nudging her with his elbow as if expecting her to start giggling at some private joke, but Flora just looked at him blankly. "Gives us all a chance to get to know each other better and afterwards who knows….?"

"Yes, well…" Flora began a slightly puzzled expression on her face. "I'll be off then, shouldn't keep Rebecca waiting."

"No you better not she's very demanding about timing, but then you'll find that out soon enough!" Adams added winking cheekily.

"If you say so!... Will you be coming upstairs later?" Flora asked hesitantly, determined to have bid her ladyship goodnight before Adams arrived, that was one encounter she really didn't need.

"Oh Ai, don't you worry nobody stands her ladyship up, not unless she asks of course!"(Another Wink) "I'll just let you two have some quality time to yourselves, god knows what you'll find to do, I mean its not like you have well…..you know…..but you're both intelligent women so I suppose you'll find someway to amuse yourselves."(He adds somewhat red and flustered by the thought) "I'll come up in a little while, once you've done your girly things; I've got a few matters of my own to deal with first, plenty to take in hand as it were." (Now grinning broadly, as he raises an eyebrow, leaning down towards the housekeeper and nudging her with his elbow again) "Aristocrats can be very demanding, difficult to please, so it's best to be prepared, primed and ready to get down to the task in hand. Not that I'm complaining I can safely say I'm sure I can cope with the extra workload if you can? After all there's nothing like another pair of hands."

"Ah yes…. well I'm sure if we all pull our weight, a team effort, the event will be a great success, good practice for future occasions!" Flora replied, like this wedding wasn't difficult enough without Andrew Adams going strange on her, first loosing one of her maids and now the under butler appeared to be loosing his marbles, there was only so much of the jovial Mr Adams she could take before she became nervous, and Flora began to back away slowly. "So I can expect nothing less than your best Mr Adams!" She asked as she headed towards the stairs.

"Oh I can say so with confidence Mrs Ryan, it will be a pleasure to give it to you! And once you've experienced my best I doubt very much anyone else will be able to measure up, in any sense of the word!" Adams added, practically giggling as he stood and watched the housekeeper make her way upstairs, once she was out of sight he pulled out watch his hand shaking slightly, only half an hour to go and then Andrew my boy its under starters orders!

Flora enters the bedroom after Rebecca's incredibly over-enthusiastic call of 'enter!', genuinely pleased that the aristocrat in question should be so excited at the prospect of sharing the first part of her evening with her, a servant, rather than Lady Caroline. As she carries in the tray, smiling, a fully clothed Rebecca clasps her hands in delight and ushers her in, a naughty twinkle in her eye

Rebecca: Oh how thoughtful of you my dear, I am sure we shall be somewhat peckish after all this excitement!

Flora placing tray on table: I certainly hope you find me stimulating this evening, m'Lady, I have been very much looking forward to this, my day has been a little, well, stressful.

Rebecca untying her hair and flicking it out: I can imagine how it can be, being housekeeper, trying to please everyone, keeping order amongst the lower servants. You poor dear!

Instead of sitting, as Flora expected, Rebecca moves towards her and stares at her in the most peculiar of fashions, causing her for the first time to feel a little self-conscious and awkward. The Lady lets out a small giggle, causing Flora to laugh nervously, her apprehensive mood intensified as she considers confiding in Rebecca about Will. Maybe talking it through with another person would be good? Get a neutral view on the issue from someone with a broad outlook on life? She is bound to understand her difficulties.

Rebecca clasping Flora's hand, jolting her out of her thoughts: Right, well, we'd best get started then! Could you unfasten my dress for me?

Flora, cursing herself for momentarily forgetting about Rebecca's needs, gets to work on her buttons, unable to see the naughty smile spreading across the Lady's delicate features

Flora: Of course it must be difficult without a maid – Elizabeth McDuff will be starting tomorrow, I'm afraid I can't offer you an experienced maid, but she is very keen and Mrs Diggins will introduce her to you. I hope you don't mind a trainee?

Rebecca checking her complexion in her dressing table mirror: Oh I'm so glad you've managed to find me someone, what a lovely surprise! I'm sure she'll be super, anyone to help me sort out my clothes is good enough for now, but I'm pleased you're not starting her until tomorrow, otherwise that could be a little embarrassing!

Flora finishing on the buttons and helping her climb out of her dress: I'm so very sorry for my comment to Mr Adams earlier, about his peculiars, I didn't mean to cause offence, I only meant……….

Rebecca spins around and cups Flora's face, almost like Will had done to her during their kiss. She can't help notice a certain twinkle in Rebecca's eyes, but before she can mention the lemonade Rebecca smiles softly and shakes her head

Rebecca: Flora don't worry, it's fine, it's actually quite amusing as he does very much enjoy certain pleasures, oh that reminds me! Before anything else, I think you should choose!

Flora frowns in confusion as Rebecca, now in her corset and underskirts, dashes over to a chest in the corner of the room and throws the lid open, smiling as she presents its contents to a rather bewildered housekeeper

Flora peering into the chest, almost grimacing: Choose? Choose what? Would you like a biscuit, M'Lady?

Rebecca reaching in, pulling out a long, white transparent outfit: Oh call me Rebecca, such formalities never do on these kind of occasions, and biscuits can wait, lets build up an appetite first. So, Aphrodite, or would you prefer to be Venus? I'm sure Andrew won't mind who's who!

At first Flora can only stare in a mild state of distress, her mouth slightly agape as Rebecca stands in her underwear, grinning excitedly at Flora as she holds up two rather revealing costumes

Flora Voice turning cracked and dry, desperately just wanting to sit with lemonade and shortbread and forget Rebecca's bizarre question: Er, do I…do I have to wear anything?

Rebecca her grin softening into a sympathetic smile: I'm sorry, I suppose I'm asking a bit much from you, of course if you'd rather just wear nothing then of course that's acceptable, Andrew won't mind, I'm sure!

Flora a slightly worried niggle beginning at the back of her mind: Is this for a play of some sort? I'm not very good at that sort of thing, tend to leave the performing to the more gregarious of my colleagues, you may want to ask Grace May, she's got a lovely voice!

Rebecca frowning, lowering the costumes and walking over to Flora to untie her hair: Oh if she's the maid I think you mean then she's far too young! And as for the rest of the servants, well, I'm rather choosy – you're the only one that I could possibly do it with, Flora my dear.

Flora, a little alarmed by the rather all too husky tone to her voice, backs away crashing into the table as Rebecca reaches up to loosen the clips in the housekeeper's hair, a definite glint of something inappropriate in her eyes. Brushing Flora's arm, Rebecca moves towards her, but Flora decides with a sudden urgency to dart out of the way and back into the corner, a look of horror spreading across her face as she begins to realise Rebecca's wholly disturbing intentions

Flora glancing at the costumes,then Rebecca,then at the soft glow of the candles by the bed: What on earth! I don't understand what you're trying to do, I….!

Rebecca still moving towards her, the amorous nature of her thoughts plain on her flushed cheeks: It's fine, Flora, I understand. If this is your first time then it's completely reasonable you may want to back out, but believe me once you've tried it, you'll never want to go back. I did it once when I was much younger, before I met Andrew, and it was the making of me. It was magical. Besides women are far more gentle.

Flora felt faint, more faint than when Will had kissed her, completely confused and upset by her new friend's intentions towards her. How could she want to do this when she is seeing somebody else? And with a woman! It almost makes her feel sick. Unable to reply to Rebecca, she feels her knees go weak and her whole body shake

Flora clutching her stomach and clawing at the wall for support: S….so you don't just want a nice chat then?

Rebecca reaching round her back to untie her own corset: Well, of course not! I mean, we can chat afterwards, I'll send Andrew away, he'll have had his fun by then anyway and you know what men are like! He'll only want to keep going, and as it's your first time I won't let him push you too hard, so to speak!

Flora's hand flies up to her mouth, her eyes wide with fright as it eventually dawns on her that she doesn't just mean the two of them, but Mr Adams as well! No wonder he was acting so strangely towards her, he thinks he's going to get…….well it didn't bear thinking about! She begins to shake her head vigorously as Rebecca stops untying herself, looking at Flora a little suspiciously. Slowly but surely the two women are realising the complete misunderstanding of the situation

Flora her heart pounding – hadn't she had enough shocks for one day: I think, Lady Rebecca, I should go, leave you and Andr….Mr Adams to it! I'm sorry, I had no idea that's what you had in mind, I only came up to chat and tell you that I spoke to Mrs Diggins about a new maid!

She begins to head towards the door, tripping up as she hurriedly picks up her skirts, almost knocking the tray of lemonade and biscuits to the floor in her haste. But Rebecca, being most quick on her feet, dashes forward and grabs Flora by the arm, a look of worry but also mild amusement on her beautiful face

Rebecca almost falling out of her unlaced corset: Flora, please, I'm sorry I had no idea, I thought Andrew had asked you about it, I didn't mean to cause offence or upset, of course we can just eat biscuits!

Flora swinging round, tears springing to her eyes. Did everyone only want her for her body: You asked him to ask me! Lady Rebecca, my duties are certainly diverse, but I do not recall the Earl putting anything like that in my contract! Please, I must go!

Flora wriggles from Rebecca's grip, her face hot and her head dizzy, but something stops her from leaving as she turns to see the distressed expression on the Lady's face. Neither knows who feels more embarrassed, but then Rebecca's smile breaks the tension a little as she giggles gently, falling back onto her chaise as the humour of the situation tickles her. She glances at the tray, then at the costume, then Flora's tearful stare

Cut to Adams coming out of his room, looking very pleased with himself. He had dealt with the dinner silver more quickly and efficiently than he had ever bothered to do so in the past, and had headed back to his room for a little 'preparation' before taking on the relatively delicious task of making Flora and Rebecca feel like real women. Adams stops, glancing at his pocket watch, before dashing back into his room to check his hair and livery in the mirror for the last time.

Cut back up to Rebecca's room, where her and Flora are both sitting back on the chaise, tears streaming down their cheeks through loud, rapturous laughter.

Rebecca pointing at Flora, but hardly able to get the words out as she clutches her stomach: And the look on your face! I'm so, soooooo sorry Flora my dear! impersonating Flora with an over-exaggerated Irish accent 'so you don't just want a nice chat then!'

The two women double over again, Flora nearly unable to breathe. She had come up to see Rebecca to forget Will, and it had certainly done the trick, although not how she imagined it in a million years! She hasn't laughed so hard since Walter's last impression of the Earl, or since the time George and Grace had been hidden in his wardrobe. These happy thoughts causes her to calm her hysterics, and she smiles over at Rebecca, who is pouring their lemonade and still giggling mercilessly

Flora biting her lip: I had no idea you are into that kind of thing, it's not something I have found any time for, I must say.

Rebecca leaning over to her, that same twinkle back in her eye: You do know that Andrew will be on his way up at any minute? And he'll be expecting, well, us to be ready for him and his manliness?

Flora her eyes widening in amused surprise: Well, I had forgotten about him, but he's not getting anything I can tell you! I can leave you to it!

Rebecca pouting her lips and winking: Oh, it seems such a waste, not to, well, play a little trick on the man? Make him think he's in for a good time? Oh come on Flora, please!

The housekeeper frowns, looking down at her lap, but then a smile tugs at her mouth. Why the hell not? Why not have some harmless fun at the expense of the under-butler, get him back for all those comments earlier and in the past, looking at her in the meeting and making her feel uncomfortable?

Flora her eyes narrowing as she grins slyly at Rebecca: Alright then, what did you have in mind?

Cut to Adams whistling and trotting slowly in the direction of the staircase, a number of taboo thoughts racing through his mind. He barely notices Will passing him, his head down and obviously just as much in deep thought as him, and once he reaches the foot of the stairs he glances round to check nobody is hanging around. With the Earl having an early night and Lady Caroline entertaining her future in-laws with her rather erratic pianoforte, he sees his chance and bounds upstairs, a lustful smile spread from ear to ear. They must be done by now, he thinks, as he cautiously approaches his lover's bedroom door. Listening quietly, he tip-toes forward, putting his ear against the cold wood desperate for any signs of life – one gasp, or pant, or rustle of bed sheets would do. Licking his lips, he resolves to get it going as soon as possible, so taps lightly on the door, his heart pounding through excitement but also a subconscious pang of worry.

A few long seconds later, the door opens ajar, and Rebecca appears in the doorway, her radiance glowing and her cheeks flushed as if she had been engaged in some sort of physical activity. She smiles softly at him, a kind of inner peace in her eyes, and she sees the rampant ardour in his expression immediately

Rebecca reaching out and stroking his face, her eyes roaming over him: You're here, Flora will be pleased. She is most looking forward to it, as am I, Andrew darling.

Adams stepping towards her, noticing her bosom heaving under her partly unlaced corset: Will you tell me what you two did together? Can I come in?

Rebecca gently places a hand on his chest and leans forward to whisper, as Adams desperately tries to see past her into the room

Rebecca parting her lips, her eyes wide and expectant: Patience, my dear, patience! We have a little request first. Flora, well, she wants you to watch us first.

Grinning, Adams tries to push into the room, desperate to get out of his clothes if only to cool down he is overheating so much, but Rebecca tuts gently and stops him, shaking her dainty head as her hair drapes provocatively over her shoulders.

Rebecca: No, no, Andrew, not blatantly standing in front of us! You must watch from out here, through the keyhole. She finds it, well, more of a turn-on. And you must put on this, so you can make a grand entrance in character! I am to be Venus, and Flora is to be Aphrodite. You can come in as Neptune to tell us naughty gods off, bit of a spanking!

Rebecca brings from behind the door a toga, bundling it up and stuffing it into Adams' arms. Startled, the under-butler is about to argue that someone could come along and see, but realising that obviously it is part of the excitement and danger, reluctantly agrees to watch, changing just before he is required.

Shutting the door, Rebecca turns to a rather nervous Flora and mouths 'we're on!', so a still fully-clothed Flora positions herself in the line of view of the keyhole while Rebecca runs across her room and rings her servants bell. She had calculated that it would take the butler a couple of minutes to get from his pantry, where Flora had predicted he would be this time of night, so just enough time to keep Adams occupied before revealing anything unnecessary to him, and to each other!

Glancing up the darkened corridor, Adams crouches down and fixes his eye over the keyhole, his whole body wracked with a passion so great his legs can hardly hold his weight. To his delight he sees Flora letting down her hair – how very peculiar to see the housekeeper, usually so fastened into her chastity belt, in such a 'private' situation. He gasps as Rebecca comes up behind her, and begins to unfasten her dress, draping her hair forward over her shoulders and smiling sweetly at her. In his excitement, he swiftly pulls off his jacket, furiously unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt, panting desperately, but never taking his eye from the keyhole for a moment.

Inside the room, and Flora closes her eyes. It may look sensual to Adams, but really she is trying to block out any thought of him enjoying himself at her expense, having his eyes searching her body while his lover, in her undergarments, brushes her hair. This is mad, she concludes, calling for Walter, completely insane the whole thing! But it is done, and Rebecca had assured her it would work, that the humour would be worth it.

Outside, Adams is changed, his clothes dumped in a pile on the floor, silently urging Rebecca to hurry up and get Flora down to her essentials and into her costume. He is so completely engrossed in the view through the keyhole; he has totally forgotten to listen out for footsteps, most importantly, those of the butler. He doesn't even notice when Jarvis is stood right next to him, staring down at him with his arms folded and an eyebrow raised.

Jarvis whispering but in a forceful tone: Mr Adams! I am sure Lady Rebecca could do very much without a peeping tom at her door!

Adams shoots a guilty and shocked stare at his boss, loosing his balance and falling backwards in his toga, almost exposing parts of his anatomy Jarvis could do well without glimpsing. Jarvis' expression turns to one of disgust, tapping the under-butler with his foot to get up off the floor and stop making a damned fool of himself

Adams clambering to his feet, brushing himself down but staggering and falling against the wall: Sir, I can explain, I er….was watching….I

Jarvis looking Adams up and down and moving closer to him: Yes I can see that, Mr Adams! And what on earth are you wearing, and why is your livery in a bunched up heap on the floor! Are you actively looking for the sack!

Suddenly the bedroom door flies open, and a fully dressed and rather shocked-looking Lady Rebecca hovers in the doorway, her hands on her hips as she glares furiously at the two servants

Rebecca avoiding any eye contact with a disgruntled Andrew: What on earth is going on out here! Hmmm! I am trying to have a nice evening chatting to Mrs Ryan and drinking her fine lemonade, not be interrupted by whisperings outside my door!

The door is open wide enough to reveal Flora sitting bolt upright on the settee, also fully clothed, sipping at her glass. Adams, completely confused, finds himself unable to speak or even think coherently, his self-consciousness hitting him like a thump in the face, which it might have well as been from his lover. The surprise at seeing Flora seemingly so cosy with Rebecca, her hair down and flowing over her shoulders, took Jarvis aback a little and knocked him off his stride.

Jarvis smoothing his waistcoat as all 3 stare at him, as if he has an answer to the situation: Well, I am so very sorry Lady Farquharson, it seems my under-butler is a little, well, confused as to his whereabouts, seems he is a little lost.

Rebecca raising her eyebrows at Adams, a pleading look in his eyes: I do hope you were not spying on us, Mr Adams? I never thought you as one to indulge in conversation of the female nature, but if you find our chat of interest to you then I am sure we could make room for one more?

Adams his anguished expression failing to placate Rebecca: But you told me to….you said….I….

Rebecca touching her face in feigned surprise: I'm afraid I'm not sure what your subordinate is talking about, Mr Jarvis, is he a little worse for drink?

Adams reaching out to her, but Jarvis moving to block him: That's not true, you DID say that Mrs Ryan……

Jarvis looking at Adams in shock: Are you suggesting that Her Ladyship is telling an untruth, Mr Adams!

Adams more and more flustered by his frustrations but conceding defeat: Of course not, Mr Jarvis, I'm sorry, I am thinking of joining the Tappleton amateur dramatics society and I thought I would practice before my audition. I will consign future practices to the confines of my room. Sir.

Jarvis glares at him angrily, before apologising profusely to Lady Rebecca for his under-butler's actions, and asking her what is was she required. Just to make sure everything had been approved by him for Elizabeth McDuff's appointment as Lady's Maid, she said, causing Adams to become even more panicky at this news. Lizzie, working for Rebecca! Could this get any worse!

Jarvis smiling, indicating to Mrs Ryan: If it is approved by Mrs Ryan, then that is all that is required, Lady Farquharson. I try to keep out of these kind of affairs, I would say women know best what women want, and if Mrs Ryan has decided how best to provide you with what you desire then that is more than adequate, I am sure.

Both women desperately try to stifle their giggles at this most appropriate comment, unbeknown to Jarvis, as he turns to Adams again, interrupting his desperately confused and distressed thoughts by bellowing in his face

Jarvis pursing his lips and rocking on his heels: I think it is about time we left these good ladies to it, don't you!

Without a word or another glance, Adams turns, disgusted, and storms out of the room and into the corridor to avoid any further upset. Jarvis pauses for a moment, his gaze falling on Flora's, the sight of her looking so natural and for once content raising his spirits, although a little wary of what she may or may not have told Rebecca - who knows what women tell each other when they are alone? Acknowledging Flora with a low-spoken 'Mrs Ryan', he bows towards Rebecca and exits, shutting the door behind him, leaving the two women to laugh hard but silently at the tribulations of poor Mr Adams

Jarvis moving so close to Adams he invades his personal space, his voice low and angry: Mr Adams, I suggest you never pull a stunt like this again, I don't care how much rehearsing you think you need! I feel I will never know the real reason for your outfit, and I don't much want to know either, now quickly get changed right here and head back to your quarters before you do even more damage to your reputation, not that it could deteriorate much further!

Adams trying one last attempt to reason with Jarvis: Please, Mr Jarvis, they wanted me to watch them together, they asked me, and I couldn't turn down a lady! They're probably in there now, together, look through the keyhole if you don't believe me!

Jarvis grabbing Adams by his toga and pulling him forward: Do you never learn! Spreading rumours like that could get you more than a sacking, Mr Adams! Now get changed before I get Mr Forest and Mr Cosmo to help you!

Adams sighs, a heavy despondency in his heart not felt by him since the debt collectors turned up. He furiously changes, muttering under his breath so Jarvis can't hear. Once back in his livery, his necktie askew and his waistcoat buttoned up incorrectly, Adams takes one more dressing down by the butler before being dismissed. Thankful that he could finally get back to his own room to hide his humiliation, with a departing nod he strides down the corridor, leaving Jarvis to ponder what on earth he is now going to do with the toga left in his possession.

Walking away in the direction of the Earl's room, to make sure enough brandy had been provided for His Lordship for his bedtime tipple, Jarvis stops and glances back towards the door, a frown fixed on his face. Mr Adams is certainly rather depraved, he considers, if he thinks Flora would for one minute think of any inappropriate behaviour with Lady Rebecca, and even worse to watch secretly just in case! What on earth would possess him to think up such a thing? Completely deplorable, such disturbing thinking. Isn't it?

Unhappy with the way his thoughts had begun to wander, Jarvis looks back down at the toga, a nagging feeling growing inside him that maybe Mr Adams' fantasy isn't such an unnatural one after all. A small cheeky smile tugs at his mouth but he vows instantly never ever to tell Flora that he at any point considered the thought of her and Lady Rebecca together in any way appealing, even for this brief moment of indulgence. What if his under-butler was telling the truth for once in his sorry life? He shakes his head, his smile fading, as he sobers himself from his ridiculous musings

Jarvis trotting down the corridor and muttering: Impossible.

Meanwhile poor Adams, his pride completely torn to shreds by the woman he loves, pauses at the top of the stairs, desperately trying to hold back his tears. How could she do this to him, make such a fool out of him, and in front of Jarvis too, knowing full well he was unable to defend himself suitably without revealing their relationship and ruining them both? Maybe she feels nothing for him after all, he's just one of her playthings and she is just as bad as Lady Caroline and the rest of that spoilt and insular class. He feels his temperature rising again, but for a completely different reason than earlier, as he grips the top of the banister, leaning over it slightly to balance his weary frame. Does she not realise he has feelings too, that he now has to face Jarvis and Mrs Ryan every day knowing what a complete idiot and pervert they must consider him?

Was such a mean trick necessary when the damn idea was never his in the first place, and……suddenly Adams staggers back a step, blinking in mild trauma and surprise as a small but sharp pain shoots through his chest, gripping it tightly and causing him to wheeze. It disappears just as quickly as it had come, but for a moment he wobbles on his feet, temporarily knocked for six, his face contorted in confusion, until he manages to regain his composure. Rubbing his chest firmly for a moment Adams simply shrugs, continuing down the steps to his room to think over and over his relationship with Rebecca, and about Lizzie working for her, until his mind would spin, but not to give his chest pain a second thought.

An hour or so later after bidding Rebecca goodnight Flora made her way back to her room, chuckling slightly to herself as she remembered the looks on both Adams and Walter's faces, she couldn't help but feel slightly worried for Rebecca when Adams caught up with her, those people that say there is nothing worse than a woman scorned obviously had never met an irate frustrated Scotsman. Why could people's love lives never be simple? Here was Rebecca in love with a man she couldn't marry without sacrificing her livelihood, whereas she…… What was she doing?

One minute she was going to marry the man she loved, to be a wife and mother and the next, the next everything was going wrong, she had lost her child in the most terrifying and traumatic circumstances, surely it was understandable for her to want a little space afterwards, to try and find someway to deal with her loss? She had expected Walter to understand, and at first he seemed to be going out of his way to be supportive, letting her know that he was there for her but not forcing the issue. Then everything had changed when she told him about not wanting any children, she knew in her heart the loss of their child had devastated him as much as her, but in truth he hadn't experienced the absolute agony of having their baby ripped from her womb.

Only she and Grace knew that feeling, there was nothing to compare with it, not just the pain but the accompanying feeling of emptiness, it was like she had lost not just her child but all her insides. Her heart and mind had simply clamped down, unable to deal with the tidal waves of emotion, and so she had become numb to everything and everyone around her, the only time she ever felt anything it was just a sudden rush of rage and she had to use every fibre of self control to stop herself from blindly lashing out. Even when Walter had made his threats and she had broken off their engagement, she hadn't really felt anything, not fear or guilt or even a deep sense of sadness. She had been able to get up the next morning and go to breakfast as if the night before had never happened, the only feelings were those of being uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed because she was attracting so much attention.

However recently, since her talks with Rebecca that she had found these barriers beginning to break down, at first it was simple things like for a few moments forgetting completely the events of the past few months and being able to relax and laugh. Normally no matter what she said or who she was with, the knowledge of her miscarriage was always with her, like a black cloud it hung over her head, dampening every moment, every conversation. And Felix wondered why she never wanted to talk about it; he was always trying to get her to open up and tell him about it, worried that she was avoiding the issue. As if she could avoid it, her mind was always preoccupied thinking about it, surely she didn't need to talk about it as well? That was one thing she hadn't mentioned to Rebecca, she hadn't told her about the baby, it was nice to be able to sit and talk to someone who didn't have that look in their eyes; that half hearted pitying look that seemed to linger amongst her staff whenever they were around her, like she was some delicate piece of porcelain who at the wrong word would shatter into a thousand pieces.

Sighing softly to herself Flora unlocked her bedroom door but did not enter, instead she stood on the threshold looking in. This room now held so many memories, some good and others, others too terrible for words, backing away from the door she headed back downstairs to her office. It had become her nightly ritual, after dinner she would head to her office, pull out her paperwork and calculate her figures until she was dropping from exhaustion; sometimes she would make it up to her room, other times she would fall asleep at her desk, only waking up in the wee hours of the morning with a crick in her neck and with enough time to make it upstairs to change before anyone else was awake.

However as she approached her office, she heard the soft tinkle of music, curious as to who would be up so late and would be so blatant about it Flora made her way long the hallway to the servants hall. Normally it would be populated with a few sleeping servants, dozing by the dying fire, however tonight there was only one occupant, Walter was sat at the piano his hands travelling lightly over the keys. For a moment Flora stood there simply listening to him play, it had been ages since he had been near the instrument as he never normally had the time and so only played on special occasions.

Then suddenly the realisation hit her, the music he was playing, it was the piano part from their Waltz at the Earl's birthday party, the night she had forgiven him for whatever had occurred with Mrs Stanwick, before the mess with Felix even before she had found out about the baby. In that moment she couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes, her long buried feelings forcing themselves to the surface. She loved him, but somehow those three words seemed in that moment to be inadequate to describe the depth of her feelings and she had to fight the urge to run across the room just to be close to him. Instead timidly she walked across the room and tentatively laid a hand on Walter's shoulder, causing him to stop playing immediately and turn round, gazing up at her in surprise and then concern as her tears slid swiftly and silently down her cheeks.

"Flora what is it?" Jarvis asked as he went to rise from the piano stool.

But Flora pushed him back down and laid her fingertips on his lips." Shush, don't speak Walter! Play for me?"

Pleasantly surprised the butler resumed his seat and began to play the piece from the beginning, not even stopping when the housekeeper perched herself on the stool next to him leaning her head on his shoulder for support as her tears fell onto his jacket. It took all of his strength of will not to stop playing and take her in his arms, but for some reason he was hesitant, afraid that if he pushed her she would run away and possibly never come near him again. When he finally came to the end of the piece he turned his head slightly, careful not move and disturb her, and much to his surprise he realised she had fallen asleep leaning against him, her fingers latched onto the buttons of his jacket.

Smiling softly to himself he allowed himself a moment to gaze lovingly at her, enjoying the warmth of her against him, before manoeuvring slightly, drawing her head so it lay against his chest, sliding an arm round her waist and then standing up slowly before bending down and scooping her up into his arms. Then gently he carried her upstairs to her room, fortunately the door was unlocked and he was able to push it open without jarring Flora awake. Then with the control of a saint he changed her into her nightdress and put her to bed, only allowing himself the small indulgence of kissing her softly on the lips goodnight, smiling broadly when on pulling away he saw her smile and heard her whisper his name lovingly. Reluctantly he had to force himself to leave, there was nothing he would like better than to simply sit and watch her sleep, but he realised that nothing would be more damaging to their fledgling relationship than a dazed and confused Flora finding him in her room when she woke the next day. Putting out the candles and closing the door behind him, he was content for a moment to lean against her door, listening to her breathing as she drifted into a deeper sleep, which hopefully included dreams of him.

He knew in that moment what he had to do, if they had a chance he had to take it and if that meant doing something he would normally consider beneath him, then so be it! Heading downstairs he made his way into his office and unlocking his desk drawer drew out the letter, the same one days ago he had opened by mistake, the same letter that until this evening he had forgotten existed and the same letter that could have taken Flora from his side, possibly forever. Sighing to himself, he flicked it open once more but he didn't need to read it, its terrible words were already engraved in his heart.

It was from one of Flora's old friends from her early days in service, a one Mrs Charlotte Harrison, who had been the housekeeper at Flora's first house. She had taken the fifteen-year-old Flora under her wing and had made it her life's work to train the young girl up to be a housekeeper, since their separation they had managed to stay in close contact, but now Charlotte was dying. She was suffering from consumption and the doctors had given her less than six months, but she was determined to make the most of the time she had left; not without means she had decided to take a tour around Europe and she had written to ask Flora to accompany her. This was the moral dilemma he had been pondering ever since he had returned to his office and found the letter. He had a choice pass the letter on and let Flora decide for herself, normally he wouldn't of hesitated secure in his belief that Flora would not abandon him, but things had been difficult lately and he was sure she would seize without hesitating any opportunity to run away again. He couldn't let her do that, not now when all of a sudden things seemed to be improving, he needed time to win her back and he couldn't do that if she was travelling all over Europe, so instead he was about to cast into the fire the dying wish of an old woman.

Taking a deep breath, Jarvis closed his eyes and threw the letter into the crackling flames, after a few moments he opened them again and watched as the last remaining page caught alight, the crisp neat penmanship being greedily consumed by the fire, until all that was left were a few fragments of shrivelled brown ash. It was only then that Jarvis let out the breath he had been holding, there it was over and Flora need never know. It was for her own good, he knew she would have enjoyed the travelling, but she really wasn't strong enough to support someone who was terminally ill, not after everything else she had been through. No it was best for her to stay here with him. Soon she'd change her mind and come round, her actions this evening had only strengthened this belief; she needed him and he needed her, they just didn't work apart. It was inevitable, she'd come round and one thing would to lead to another, she may not want another child but in reality there was little other than abstinence that could prevent it, and he knew Flora, she wouldn't be able to deny him or herself forever. All he had to do was be patient and give her all the space she needed whilst making damn sure that in the end she had nowhere else to run too but his arms.

The next morning Flora Ryan woke smiling and languorously stretched out, enjoying the feeling of being well rested, slowly the memories of last night resurfaced and she had to resist a chuckle when she remembered the trick on Andrew Adams, but one thing did puzzle her; how had she got back up to her room? She remembered going downstairs to her office, then she recalled seeing Walter and sitting down next to him to listen to the music but after that she must have fallen asleep. Glancing around the room she spotted her clothes from the night before neatly folded over the arm of her chair, and then it dawned on her she was in her nightdress, so as well as having carried up her up to her room, Walter must also have put her to bed.

Blushing slightly at the thought, she couldn't help the smile that tugged once more at her lips, she was sure that wasn't a completely onerous task for him, but still she decided to make the effort and thank him for his kindness and consideration. Perhaps if she got dressed quickly she could catch Felix before he started on breakfast and use her subtle powers of persuasion, namely persistent pleading, to get him to make Eggs Benedict for breakfast, it would be a small subtle sign of her appreciation, and after all the way to a man's heart was notoriously through his stomach.

An hour or so later Jarvis was making his way down to breakfast, humming a now familiar melody and having to resist the urge to smile at each and everyone he passed lest they all thought Lady Mary's battiness was catching. As he reached his office he caught sight of his mother down the corridor talking to Felix, a puzzled yet pleased expression on both their faces. Slowly Jarvis walked up to them and smiling broadly he grasped his mother by the hand and span her round before dragging her through a few dance steps humming the waltz loudly. Then just as randomly as he had started he let her go, and chuckling quietly to himself, he made his way quickly out the side door ignoring his mother's exclamations and Felix's questions.

Once outside he quickly made his way out into the gardens, scanning the area for one of the few remaining gardeners, finally he spotted one over by the chapel hedge and so he strode over, stuffing his hands firmly in his pockets against the increasingly nippy weather. A few minutes later a satisfied if slightly poorer butler made his way back to the house; the first part of his plan in motion, now all he had to do was find a way to get into town in order to purchase the items that were essential to the second. Then it struck him, what he needed was an accomplice and knew just the lady for the job, besides it would keep her out of mischief for the time being; after all the last thing he needed was for some plan of his mother and Felix's to backfire and disrupt the delicate balance that currently existed.

Once back inside Jarvis pulled out his pocket watch, and softly stoked the lock of hair bound in its casing, glancing at the time he headed off to breakfast, he knew he'd be early but somehow he was in far too good a mood to ruin it by starting work just yet. Opening the dining room door he was surprised to see the housekeeper already seated, sipping at her cup of tea seemingly engrossed in reading her post. For a moment Jarvis felt a twinge of panic, what if her friend had written again, worried by Flora's lack of reply? However he did not have time to ponder this for long because suddenly Flora looked up from her letter and spotted Jarvis hovering just inside the door; smiling she stood up and began to pour him a cup of tea from her own pot.

"Good Morning Mr Jarvis!" She said warmly as she handed him his tea, allowing her fingers to brush gently against the back of his hand and Jarvis had to quickly raise his free hand in order to steady his now shaking tea cup, whilst an amused Flora returned to her seat. For a moment he simple stood there looking at her smiling up at him, then in a shocking break with tradition and protocol, instead of moving to his end of the table he deliberately sat down beside her.

Slightly stunned but pleased Flora leant forward so she could lower her voice and talk privately. "Thank you for last night, you didn't have to go out of your way like that, I mean carrying me all the way upstairs!"

"Believe me Flora it was hardly a chore!" Jarvis replied a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

Flora blushed slightly but didn't break their gaze, "Yes well…. I just hope I wasn't too much of a burden."

"Impossible!" Jarvis replied immediately, "it was my pleasure, you look so peaceful when you sleep, positively angelic, I would be happy to simply sit and watch you in bed for hours!" He added stopping when he saw the slightly alarmed look on her face. "Not that I did stare at you whilst you were asleep….I mean I didn't last night….I wouldn't not without your permission first…." Jarvis trailed off desperately trying to extricate himself from the hole had been digging, but instead just kept on digging.

Fortunately Flora wasn't offended, as long as he was only staring at her whilst she slept instead of ogling her whilst she was in a state of undress. Of course she would never know for sure, but somehow as it was Walter it didn't bother her, after all it was not like he hadn't seen it all before anyway. Chuckling slightly at the panicked look on the butlers face, she smiled broadly before reaching out her hand and laying it reassuringly on top his, squeezing it slightly. "Don't worry I wouldn't mind if you did."

Slightly astounded at both her statement and her apparent ease at being close to him, Jarvis allowed himself to relax, turning his hand over so he could thread his fingers through hers, then keeping his eyes locked on her's for any sign of distress he brought her hand up to his lips and placed a row of kisses along her knuckles. However it had the opposite affect, her eyes seemed to soften further and she leant closer towards him and Jarvis automatically felt the magnetic pull towards her. He leant forward until they were scant inches apart, reaching up with his free hand, his other still held her's firmly in his grasp, and brushed the back of his hand down the side of her face, Flora reflexively closing her eyes and nuzzling into his touch. At that moment Jarvis made the move to close the remaining distance between them, his eyes locked firmly on her slightly parted lips, but suddenly the door to the dining room swung open and the pair instantly separated, Jarvis turning to glare at the intruder.

Frank stood in the doorway, a smile on his face so broad it appeared as though for him Christmas had come early. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

"Whatever, it's certainly none of your damn business!" Jarvis snapped back, his disappointment palpable to all, especially as he had to sit and watch Flora withdraw away from him, shrinking back in her seat, her housekeeper's mask now firmly back in place as she avoided even eye contact.

"What NOTHING going on at all? Humph, somehow I doubt that! Personally I can't understand why on earth you'd take her back, everyone knows what's been going on with her and Forest, at it like rabbits apparently; not a room or cupboard in the house that hasn't received its own special christening, if you know what I mean!" Frank added his eyebrow raised lasciviously, as he leered at the now glowering housekeeper.

"Actually maybe you'd be able to answer a pressing question for me Mrs Ryan, after you're now the resident expert on all carnal matters, what do you think makes the best lover, stamina or experience?"

Immediately an enraged Walter and embarrassed Flora got to their feet, but before Jarvis could pound the valet into the ground, Flora had rushed past him out of the dining room, and so a concerned Jarvis went to follow her but Frank moved in front of the door blocking the exit.

"Get out of my way!" Jarvis bellowed, itching to wipe that smug grin off the young man's face.

"Or what you'll make me? Give me another one of your girly slaps? Face it old man, your just not enough for her, can hardly blame her for looking elsewhere for a bit of rough now can you, and Will Forest is most definitely a bit of rough! Shame for the lad really, he seems quite smitten, but its obvious to anybody with half a brain she's just using him. Who knows maybe the three of you could come to some sort of arrangement, you could both learn to share her, ORRRRRRRRR who knows maybe you could resort to three in a bed? I bet you'd like that, I mean you've always been such close friends with Mr Kraus, so who knows what perversity has rubbed off over the years….."

But Frank never had the chance to finish; an outraged Jarvis punched him firmly in the stomach, knocking the wind out of Frank's sails, and slamming him against the wall holding him up by his collar

"Don't you dare speak about my friends like that! You vile little worm, how dare you spread lies about your betters?" Jarvis hissed in Frank's face, dropping him suddenly in disgust, and turning away storming towards the door and stopping in surprise when he saw the small crowd that had gathered there.

For a moment Jarvis stood unsure about what to do, but then Frank got unsteadily to his feet, coughing slightly as he wheezed whilst catching his breath. "Oh don't tell me you don't know?" Frank hissed in Jarvis ear, his eyes scanning over the crowd until they fell on a certain chef who stood pale and puzzled in the crowd, before he continued whispering to Jarvis alone.

"Well then I feel it's my duty to tell you, that friend of yours has been keeping a rather a large secret from you, he's not like you and I! Oh no he's one of those sick perverts that scorns the delights of the fairer sex, preferring to takes his pleasure from other gentlemen; personally I'm surprised he hasn't approached you! After all you are both such good friends, and I'm sure over the years he's provided you with a very willing shoulder to cry on…..haven't you ever wondered why? Why he's always so helpful, so attentive?" Frank added maliciously. "Maybe it was in the hope that one day he would get a little something back in return?"

Shocked Jarvis was unable to speak, instead he simple turned and stormed out of the room, brushing off the concerned glances that the confused staff shot at him as he passed them, and deliberately ignoring Felix's queries of concern not even looking his friend in the eye as he dashed away to his office.

Jarvis' office, a while later. Jarvis is sat scrawling in his book of figures, now on his third quill after breaking the nibs of the other two, he is pressing down so hard on the page in fury. Suddenly Adams, his mind elsewhere and in his usual manner, barges into Jarvis' office without so much as a cursory knock, and hovers in the doorway. Damn it, the under-butler thinks, why did he ALWAYS forget to knock? One day Jarvis would shout at him for it, he was sure.

Jarvis swinging round in his chair and glaring over his spectacles: WHAT IS IT NOW, MR ADAMS! AND WILL YOU LEARN TO KNOCK!

Adams desperately hoping he won't ask him about the previous night: Er, the new guests sir, they've arrived early. Just coming down the path now.

Jarvis scrapes back his chair, slamming the quill down and the book shut, causing Adams to jump a little, and rises quickly to his feet. Marching over to the door, his face like thunder with a manner to match, he flies past his subordinate and into the corridor, whispering to him under his breath as he does so

Jarvis without turning to Adams: Let's get this damn thing over with, why do they always bloody well arrive when I'm goddamn busy!

Cut to the front of the house, where Jarvis is standing at the bottom of the steps, looking completely unamused by and unconcerned with the early arrivals. Flanking him are Fred and Joe, who keep mouthing to each other behind Jarvis' back, glancing at him from time to time. Fred, dangerously close to being spotted by the short-tempered butler, silently simulates being punched in the stomach, doubling over in an exaggerated fashion, but with a big grin on his face. Jarvis turns his head and shoots him a furious glance, Fred jumping to his formal position immediately, but before he can verbally reprimand him the first of the two coaches clatter up noisily. Joe swiftly opens the first door as the coachmen jump down to lift off the luggage, a rather scrawny looking man in a greatcoat obviously far too big for him stepping out and grinning broadly at Jarvis. The butler manages a rather watery smile back, and a less-than-enthusiastic 'welcome to Taplows, Lord Hamilton-Hussey', but can't help but notice immediately how undernourished the poor man looks, for one so wealthy. Closely followed by him is a rather frumpy woman, rather young for one in such an unfashionable and dowdy dress. Lady Francesca's face has a rather unconventional beauty about it, but her obvious self-consciousness, her lacklustre expression and emptiness in her eyes meant she could not resemble her gorgeous elder sister less in any way. She gives Jarvis a hollow smile, but her eyes only flicker onto him momentarily before bawling a question in his general direction as she links her husband's arm

Francesca picking up her heavy brown skirts: Is my sister around? Knowing her she's probably daydreaming in her room.

And possessing none of the charm of Lady Rebecca either, Jarvis considers, as he  
suddenly finds himself surrounded by rather young children and little yapping dogs. To his surprise the four children, aged probably between four and twelve, don't begin running round and shouting like the dreadful Fiffington-Piffles brood, but instead stand perfectly still in a line, the eldest at one end and the youngest at the other. The youngest, a little girl with golden blonde ringlets, stares curiously up at Fred, who keeps trying his best to ignore her. Eventually she gives him a huge grin, and the footman can't help but chuckle and smile back, until Lady Francesca calls angrily to her to follow her brothers and sisters.

Jarvis shows them up the steps where Adams is waiting to greet them, so he can go back down to the second carriage rolling in. But when Lady Francesca catches the under-butler's eye she glares at him furiously, a look that could only say one thing to him. 'I know'. Adams gulps hard, his breathing quickening as he shows her and her terribly bony husband into the hallway, where Rebecca greeted her sister with a unnaturally cold smile for her and a quick peck on the cheek.

Francesca holding her sister's hand and turning her back to Adams: How are you my dear sister? You know who sends their love.

Rebecca glances up at Adams, a frightened look in her eyes, but he hasn't heard a word as he is too busy staring at the monstrosity who had stepped out of the next carriage and is bellowing at Jarvis. Before he can tear his attention to Rebecca, she grabs Francesca by the hand and drags her towards the drawing room, away from Adams, desperate for her sister not to mention another word until they are out of his sight. It is only then that the under-butler breaks his concentration and stares longingly after Rebecca, desperate to talk to her, and completely frustrated at her treatment of him the night before. It still doesn't stop his heart from missing a beat, his love for her so maddening it is beginning to bury itself deep into his consciousness so all he can think about is her radiant smile, the touch of her skin, the taste of her lips, the smell of her body and the sheer intense pleasure of their love-making.

It isn't until the growl of an aristocratic voice booms into the hallway that he snaps out of his daydream, and a large, burly man with a whispy moustache and a bright pink, rather veiny face from obviously far too much of Scotland's finest marches up to him. Jarvis is following subservantly behind with a murderous glare, clutching the Lord's greatcoat and top hat and already sick to the back teeth of this horrific new guest of the Earl's. How did something so repulsive produce such a beautiful woman?

Jarvis through gritted teeth: Lord Farquarson, if you will follow me to the drawing room...

Farquharson Booming into Adams' face - if he remembered him he certainly didn't show it: You man, where is the old goat, eh? Too busy wallowing in his own self-pity I bet. Come on, speak up, or have you lost your tongue?

Adams throwing Jarvis a concerned look: His Lordship is in the drawing room, M'Lord.

Farquarson growing even redder, his eyes bulging from their sockets: Well don't just stand there, show me...!

Suddenly the old man began to cough and splutter, and Jarvis dived forward to help him, but the Lord waved him away impatiently as he continues to choke, gasping for breath, phlegm dribbling onto his jacket. After catching his breath, the two servants rather perturbed by the whole experience, he straightens up and wipes his mouth. During all the commotion they had failed to see Rebecca dashing up to aid her father

Rebecca smiling gently at Adams and taking the Lord by his arm: Oh don't worry, he has a weak disposition, isn't that right father? All those cigarettes won't help, either!

Farquharson kissing his daughter on the cheek, obviously very fond of her: Oh don't fuss, Becca my dear! I'm fine, honestly. Now, take me to the old duffer, it's been a long time!

Walking her father slowly down the hall, Rebecca turns slightly and looks pleadingly at the under-butler, her eyes darting from him to Jarvis, checking the butler isn't looking in her direction. Adams knows instantly she is hinting to him to come and find her in her room in a little while, he recognises that expression of desperation to be with him alone, and for a moment he considers not obeying - why should he, when she was so rotten to him? Well, best to have it out with her, he decides, and turning to leave he sees Jarvis staring at him, his arms crossed firmly. For a terrified second he thinks that the butler has guessed, well it wouldn't be that hard would it?

Jarvis pacing towards Adams, his expression hard and unchanging: I suggest, Mr Adams, you stop your interest in Lady Rebecca before it does you harm. One word from her to the Earl about your behaviour and you're out of here, do you understand?

Adams hanging his head slightly, avoiding eye contact: I don't know what you mean, sir.

Jarvis raising an eyebrow: Oh I think you do. She is a very beautiful woman, no doubt, I do not question your taste, Mr Adams, but what I do question is your integrity. Now get back to work and earn your keep!

Adams: Yes, sir.

A desperate yell of 'Mrs Diggins, get my mother back to her room and keep her there!' from the direction of the drawing room breaks the conversation, Jarvis gasping in horror and rushing off to try to placate an obviously distressing scenario which has developed amongst the aristocrats. Leave them alone for a minute and all hell breaks loose! Turning on his heels, Adams marches away, partially relieved that Flora hadn't told him about the relationship, but partially very concerned that he is beginning to blow his cover. This still doesn't prevent him from returning to her half an hour later. Gambling on her being there waiting for him, he takes a glass of water on a tray and heads up, working out exactly what he is going to say to her over and over in his mind before she can turn on the charm and turn him into the soft, mushy Adams he has become of late. He is going to tell her that it is just not on, he can't treat her like this, he may not be of aristocratic blood but he has feelings too and she should recognise that if their relationship is to keep going. Right. Without even his usual knock, he bursts in, and as luck would have it his Lady is lying on her bed, as if she had read his mind and knew he was on his way to see her. Sitting up she produces a sultry smile, then leaping off the bed hurries over to him, snatching the tray off him and pulling him by the hand to the chaise.

Rebecca patting the seat and then rummaging through a drawer: Sit, sit! I want to give you something!

Adams tutting, determined to say what he had to say: Look, Becca, I need to talk to you, about last night, I...

Rebecca clasping a box and seating herself next to him: Oh, Andrew, last night - I am sorry, I realised afterwards that maybe I was a little beastly to you. It was funny at the time, but to embarrass you in front of Mr Jarvis, well, it was cruel.

Adams, surprised at Rebecca's admission, could after that only muster a nod and a small smile, completely put off his stride. All the words he was going to spout at her have disappeared and all his mind can see is the vision of her beauty. Looking down at the box, Rebecca pushes it into his hand and wills him to open it. Puzzled, Adams lifts the lid slowly, and almost lets out a whistle at the pocket watch sitting snugly in its velvet case. Taking it out, he flips the gold watch in his hand and examines the exquisite craftsmanship on the casement, the expense of such an item now his completely overwhelming him. Yes it certainly is beautiful, but that is the problem. For a moment Adams stares at it, speechless, thinking how dare she?

Is she trying to highlight the difference between them, that she can afford a gift for him that would cost him six months wages to buy? But then he looks up at her, the sheer delight on her face at giving him the gift, and he realises that no it isn't like that at all, the cost of the item hadn't even occurred to her, it isn't an issue, the idea that she is trying to mock him by reminding him of her wealth would have appalled her. She simply wanted to give a token of her affection to her lover, and to her a pocket watch which would just happen to cost him half his yearly salary just isn't important. Adams smiles at her, rubbing his thumb over the exquisitely engraved casement before leaning forward and gently kissing her flawless cheek.

Rebecca clasping her hands excitedly: Open it, open it!

Adams does as requested, and chuckles in delight as it catches the light and he sees their initials engraved on the inside. Nobody had given him such a thoughtful present before, the significance of it far outweighing any value. She never ceases to amaze him, and all his anger towards her has melted away to nothing during this most perfect of moments.

Adams clasping her hand tightly and whispering: Thank you. It's beautiful. Such a delicate thing. I wish I could give you something in return, but I have nothing - I could buy you a book, I...

Rebecca shakes her head, smiling radiantly, and drifts her fingers across his lips to quieten him. Shifting forward slightly on the chaise, she moves her hand to run the back of her fingers across his cheek, their eyes lost in an all-consuming gaze, and taking her hand Adams kisses her knuckles one by one. Tilting her head slightly she brings her face up to his, and a moment later their lips entwine in a firm but loving kiss. He strokes the warm skin of her neck, closing his eyes and gently pulling her towards him, but before Rebecca can take the initiative to take it any further, he breaks the kiss and sighs, shifting his gaze to the bedroom door, a look of concern on his face, as if Lady Francesca was about to barge in followed by every aristocrat in the house and drag him away to the workhouse themselves

Adams pausing, then looking back at a startled Rebecca: Rebecca, tell me one thing. Does your sister know about us?

Rebecca raising her eyebrows and getting to her feet: Why? Not as far as I am aware of. Has she said anything?

Adams: No, nothing, it's just...just a look she gave me. She seemed angry, Becca. Angry with ME.

Rebecca dashes back to the chaise, throwing herself down and snuggling herself into him as if he had just told her he has three months to live. A little taken aback for a moment, he places his hand on her shoulder and kisses the top of her head, nuzzling her soft sweet-smelling red hair

Rebecca her voice slightly muffled as she buries her face in his chest: I'm sure she doesn't know, Andrew my sweet. She always has a look of anger on her face, you must remember that, like she's got goodness only knows what shoved up her bottom. But there's something - something I should tell you before you hear it from her or one of my father's servants. I've been putting it off since I got here, but...

Suddenly there is a loud tap on Rebecca's door and she sits up automatically, a panicky look on both their faces - it's not time for Lizzie to see her again, besides because Mrs Ryan had been forced to split her duties in the end she would be in the kitchen helping Kraus prepare lunch. Jumping up, Adams stuffs the pocket watch in his pocket, resuming his appropriate position in the room with the glass on the tray, as Rebecca wearly calls out 'enter!' By now this is a situation Adams is now most definitely used to dealing with, but to his horror it is Lady Francesca who waltzes in, glaring at him as if she had expected to find him there and has only turned up to reprimand him.

Rebecca giving her sister a hollow smile and trying desperately not to gaze at Adams: Oh Franny my dear, what is it? I will be down to join you all momentarily.

Franny pursing her narrow lips sourly, her sunken eyes not moving from the under-butler: Becca darling, everyone is waiting for you, pianoforte is required and you know how much better you are than me.

Lady Francesca turns to Adams, approaching him and quite obviously looking him up and down, a disgusted and disapproving sneer spreading across her lips. Adams doesn't flinch, choosing to remain staring straight ahead, his eyes fixed on the wall

Franny spitting harshly: I hardly think it appropriate for a male servant to be hovering in a Lady's chamber, do you, Mr...whatever your name is? Leave us now, you are dismissed.

With a cursory bow and a quick glance at Rebecca, catching her eye, he turns and exits, leaving his despondent lover in the company of her po-faced sister. At least now, even if she did know, his relationship with Rebecca is so strong he feels it could now easily withstand anything, even if Francesca felt it her duty to tell their father. He isn't going to lose her, not now, not after everything, and nobody, least of all Lady Francesca Hamilton-Hussey, is going to ruin it

During the afternoon Jarvis was just making his way back downstairs, after a rather trying morning getting the new arrivals settled when he suddenly found his way blocked, and an extremely nervous Fred standing in his path.

"Mr Jarvis sir, its Lord Julian he's demanding your presence in his room sir, immediately!" Fred managed to mutter, his worry for his superior clear on his face.

"Thank you Mr Matkin!" Jarvis replied courteously, but inside his stomach knotted once more, he should of known that Frank wouldn't stay silent about this morning's incident, not when he had half a dozen prime witnesses to back up his side of the story. Sighing to himself Jarvis turned and made his way down the corridor, it was time to face the music, his only consolation was the fact that if he was going to be getting the sack he'd be heading towards the Earls study and not Lord Julian's room.

Ten minutes later and very subdued butler exited Lord Julian's room and instead of heading back to his office he made his way upstairs to his own room, slowly he paced round his bedroom, trying to maintain a handle on his temper. How dare he? How dare that jumped up little snot faced whelp talk to him like that, treating him as if he was nothing better that a brawling drunkard, and then….then making him apologise to that arrogant Bd Frank Kenealy, no not apologise grovel was more like the word. Oh and Frank standing there loving every second of Jarvis's humiliation, lapping up every insult Lord Julian had levelled at the butler and then Jarvis had thought Frank was going to burst with glee when Julian had made him beg Frank for his forgiveness.

Oh yes the valet had stood there memorising every moment of Jarvis's degradation, taking such perverse pleasure from it, and then afterwards when Julian was out of ear shot Frank had whispered something at Jarvis, and the butler had had to dig his nails into his hands just to stop himself from leaping across the room and despite the aristocrat's presence beating seven bells out of the valet. He still couldn't think about it without seething, if that monster laid one finger on her he'd wring his neck. Damn him he knew all of Jarvis's weak spots and he had no qualms about exploiting them either, and as for what he'd suggested doing to Flora, no Jarvis wouldn't put that past him either, but to propose, to even suggest that Jarvis might want to help, to take his turn as it were, that made the butler choke back nausea

If only things were normal between himself and Flora at least at night when she would be most vulnerable, he could have made sure she was tucked up safe with him, and never let her out of his sight. But as it was she was alone in her own room, all the way down the corridor, and Jarvis knew that from now on he was going to have a lot of sleepless night.

Upset and frustrated Jarvis seized the nearest item to hand, his latest Dickens novel and flung it hard across the room, before collapsing into his easy chair his head in his hands, he didn't hear his door open and the housekeeper make her way over to him. It was only when she rested her hands on his shoulder that he looked quickly round at her, his relief obvious on his face. Wordlessly he turned and slid his arms round her waist pulling her onto to his lap and into his arms; resting his head on her chest he held her close practically shaking with relief. Flora slightly stunned at this sudden intimacy, soon relaxed and realising something was terribly wrong began to stroke Walter's hair soothingly.

"What happened, did he sack you?….Walter you have to tell me, please!"

After a few moments Jarvis sat back against his chair, but still did not release his iron grip on the housekeeper, at first he just stared at her, his internal conflict apparent on his face, however finally he decided to speak. "No I haven't been sacked, Lord Julian just gave me an earful!"

"And what else?" Flora replied, she knew him too well, there had to be something more.

"He made me grovel an apology to that pond scum Frank Kenealy."

"And?" Flora added, her tone soft and concerned.

"What makes you think there's an and?" The butler countered but he couldn't meet her gaze, his eyes locking on to the fire flickering in the grate.

"Because I know you!" Flora replied, reaching out a hand and brushing it down the side of Walter's face, before leaning forward and seizing his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. "What did he say?"

"When? Before I hit him?" Jarvis hedged.

"Yes that, and upstairs just now, what has he done to you to make you so angry?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Flora there are something's a lady just doesn't need to hear."

"So he insulted me then?" Flora asked, leaning even closer so she rested her forehead against Jarvis's, and when Walter did not automatically deny it she probed further. "What did he say, did he threaten to expose us?" Jarvis shook his head, but the look of terror in his eyes told her everything she needed to know, sitting up suddenly she felt herself begin to shake. "Oh I see!" She added her voice quavering with fear.

"I won't let him lay a finger on you I swear it Flora! If you don't feel safe here, then just say so and we can leave, right this instant if needs be, we can go to Eastbourne…"But Jarvis didn't get the chance to finish, smiling slightly through her tears Flora leant forward and kissed him softly on the lips. For a moment all-conscious thought was lost, for Jarvis it was like the first drop of water to a man wandering in the desert and he simply drank her in, unwilling to let her go even for air. However eventually he had to relinquish her lips and breathlessly Flora spoke once more, "We're not going anywhere, he is! This is our home and I won't be driven out of it by an arrogant bully!"

"But.."

"No buts Walter, we're not going anywhere, and if you really think he would act on his threat then we'll work round it, there are always plenty of people around. If I wanted I could take it upon myself to start training some of the girls up, that way I'd always have someone around me during the day, and in the evenings then I can make sure I'm either with you, or Emily or Felix…"

But at the mention of Felix's name an unreadable expression fleeted across Walter's face, and Flora stopped suddenly. "What's wrong with Felix all of a sudden, have you two had another argument? How you have ever managed to remain friends over the years…"

"He's not my friend!" Jarvis cut in, his face dark and serious.

"What do you mean, of course he's your friend."

"He's lied to me ever since I've known him, how can I trust him now knowing…"

"Knowing what? Walter tell me!" Flora replied.

"It is not something you talk about in polite conversation, let me just say I've found out something that has radically changed my opinion of Mr Kraus, I no longer trust him." Jarvis replied, moving to get up and helping a disappointed and worried Flora to her feet, before turning and walking to the window.

"But he's your friend, you've known each other for years…" Flora argued walking over to where Walter stood moodily staring out of the window.

"No we don't, I know nothing about him, he's not the man I thought I knew, he's not the man you think he is Flora, he's nothing like us!" Jarvis replied wheeling round to look at her, grasping her shoulders firmly and shaking her slightly.

"Why? What's happened?"

"He's not normal, he's…he doesn't bat for the same team…he's…" Jarvis trailed off unable to find words to describe it that he could use in front of a lady.

"He doesn't like women!" Flora answered for him, and Jarvis looked up at her in amazement.

"You know?" He asked astounded.

"Yes I know!" Flora replied softly.

"But how? How long have you known?" Jarvis countered his surprise quickly turning to anger.

"Since I got back from London, he was upset and confided in me…"

"And you never thought once in all these months to let me in on this little secret?" Jarvis cut her off, his voice turning icy. "Even though we were engaged to be married, and you were carrying my child, you thought it was appropriate to keep something like this to yourself?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell!" Flora snapped back, "Can you blame me for not telling you? Judging by your reaction no wonder Felix never told you either!"

"So what you're saying is your loyalty to him outweighs that which you feel towards me?" Jarvis asked stepping dangerously close, his eyes boring right into hers, but Flora did not flinch.

"Why do you have to do this, why do you have to turn everything around so all of a sudden it's about you! Maybe Felix didn't feel like telling you, he knew how you'd react and besides why would you ever need to know?"

"I need to know my dear when suddenly other people start accusing me of the same debauched behaviour, because of him I've been contaminated by association, and it looks like he's done a marvellous job of brainwashing you into accepting his abnormality. Well that stops right here, from now on we are having nothing more to do with him, dear god if he can manipulate you so easily just imagine the affect he might have had on our child, as his god father no less… Wait a moment… you knew… all that time you knew and yet you still wanted him to be a godparent!"

"Yes I did and I still would…"

"Over my dead body, I mean it from now on we cut all ties!"

"I've told you once before Walter Corey, nobody has the right to tell me who I can and can't associate with, and just who do you think you are telling me who I can and cannot be friends with?" Flora retorted angrily, stepping closer to him so that they were almost touching, internally cursing herself as despite the situation she felt that familiar feeling of excitement just from being close to him, the skin on her arms tingling under his firm grasp.

"Who am I?…I'm only the man you love, the only man you will ever truly love despite everything that we've been through, the man who loves you with his body and soul; I would gladly die to protect you Flora and you know it!" Jarvis replied leaning down and resting his forehead against her's, his eyes flickering over her lips as he had to resist the strong urge to crush his forcibly against them, and prove to her just how much he loved her.

Quickly suppressing those passionate impulses Jarvis took a few calming breaths, and when he spoke again his voice had almost returned to normal. "I don't want to fight with you over this Flora, I can understand why you are defending him, you have always been admirably loyal to your friends, regardless of whether they deserve it or not, but this is not your battle, this is between me and Felix and I do not want you caught in the crossfire. Please promise me you'll stay out of this!"

At first Flora was too stunned to reply, her internal conflict was clear on her face, on one hand her temper yelled at her to rebel against his dictates, he had no right to tell her who she could and couldn't be friends with, but on the other hand he had just had a terrible shock and so surely his reaction was understandable. For a moment both simply glared at the other unwilling to back down, and the temperature in the room seemed to rocket, as each tried to subdue the other's will, both struggling to keep their thoughts from wandering and the barely contained sexual tension out of their eyes.

Suddenly Flora seized the lapels on the butler's jacket pulling him firmly against her, Jarvis responded by immediately covering her lips with his own, and kissing her passionately his hands roaming up and down her back, moulding her body firmly against his. After a few moments he broke their kiss, and moved his mouth down her neck, kissing and nipping her exposed skin before nuzzling firmly into the base of her neck causing Flora to growl slightly. Delighted by her reaction Walter moved his hands to begin to unbutton her dress, but before he had reached the second clasp Flora had seized his hands and drew them back around her waist.

For a moment Walter looked at her, his disappointment obvious but then he realised just how lucky he was to be allowed this much, when only a few days ago he had thought she would never speak to him again. Pulling her back against him, he was content to nuzzle against the base of her neck kissing her just hard enough and long enough to mark her flawless skin, branding her as his own, before moving to nibble slightly on her ear, soliciting another moan from the housekeeper. Smiling to himself Jarvis realised a little patience in the short run would be worth it, he could wait a little longer, and then the rewards would be even greater.

Meanwhile Flora was having an internal debate of her own; surely there would be nothing to gain from another estrangement? Perhaps this was one conflict the two men needed to sort out on their own without her interference. She could do as Walter suggested and refuse to get involved, be a neutral party for a change, and at least that way she might be able to bring them individually to their senses.

Finally able to push the butler away slightly, Flora looked him in the eye and replied softly. "Alright, I will stay out of this Walter, but I am not ending my friendship with Felix no matter what you say….No buts Walter!" Flora added as she saw the Butler's face turn slightly pink. "I won't get involved, you two can sort it out yourselves, but just don't go coming to me for a shoulder to cry on over this, you make your bed and you lie in it!" And with that she turned and walked towards the door.

"Flora Wait!" Jarvis called after her, and the housekeeper paused for a moment at the door, "Did you like them?" He asked, a note of apprehension creeping into his voice.

Flora stood there, a broad smile slowly spreading over her beautiful face as she remembered the exquisite vase of cut white roses that had been mysteriously deposited in her office that morning. "That depends Walter Corey…" She replied teasingly.

"On what?" Jarvis replied some what put out by her question.

"On whether or not I'm going to have an irate Lady Caroline bearing down on me asking how a vase of her wedding roses just so happened to end up in my office?"

Jarvis chuckling slightly wandered over to her, and sliding his arms round her waist drew her back into his arms, before leaning down and kissing her forehead, then her nose and finally her lips. Breaking the kiss a rather flustered Flora raised an eyebrow in exasperation, "So is that the answer I'm supposed to give her?"

"Hmmm, well you never know it could work wonders for employer staff relations!"

"Be serious!" Flora retorted, slapping him playfully on the arm, to which Jarvis responded by cheekily squeezing her bottom.

"I am being serious!" Jarvis replied his tone light and mocking, enjoying the slightly shocked expression on Flora's face as she endeavoured to remove his wandering hands.

"Walter behave yourself!" Flora reprimanded, but her heart wasn't truly in it, after all this time she had finally felt a spark of true happiness and she was reluctant to let it go out.

"I'll behave, I'll act like the perfect gentleman but you have to promise to answer me something, and you have to be totally honest!" Jarvis replied a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Oh no, I don't think so…" Flora began, but then as Walter's caresses grew more explorative and insistent, she found herself struggling to resist, the final straw was when he began to paw at her breasts through the fabric of her dress, and so breathlessly she finally relented. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

Smiling gleefully Jarvis removed his hands but leant against the door, holding his body less than an inch away from the housekeepers and bringing up a hand to seize her chin and force her to look him straight in the eye. "What was really going on last night…and don't try and fob me off Flora I can tell when you're lying!"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing!" The housekeeper replied automatically trying desperately to keep a straight face.

"Really, they why was Andrew Adams standing outside the room, peering through the keyhole wearing a toga, of all things?" Jarvis asked his face serious and his tone insistent.

"Walter how should I know what gets into his head? I was simply having a quiet chat with Lady Rebecca and all of a sudden we heard this scuffle outside of her door, and then there you both were!"

"A quiet chat? With your hair down?" Jarvis replied, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, as Flora nodded resolutely but was unable to prevent the slight blush that crept into her cheeks. "Well if that's the truth, I think I'm going to have to do something serious about our Mr Adams, he's obviously starting to hallucinate which would suggest that he's back on the booze, so maybe a formal disciplinary or perhaps demotion are once again in order, not to mention banning him from even going near Lady Rebecca…"

"No you can't…" Flora cut him off, but stopped herself when Jarvis raised an eyebrow in puzzled amusement.

"And why can't I? Mr Adams is obviously making a nuisance of himself and Lady Rebecca is obvious too sweet a lady to complain about him, so surely my course of action is clear? That is of course unless you have something to tell me that might change my judgement!"

For a moment Flora didn't answer, she'd promised Rebecca not to tell a living soul, but she knew her friend would be much more upset at having her relationship with Andrew broken off because of some disciplinary measure against Mr Adams. Besides this was Walter, he wouldn't tell anyone, not if she made him swear on her life not to breath a word to anyone. "Alright I'll tell you, but Walter you have to promise me solemnly not to tell or be angry please!" Flora pleaded, reaching up a hand and cupping Walter's cheek. "Promise me!"

"I promise!" Jarvis replied softly, worried by her serious tone and demeanour. "This doesn't have anything to do with you and Rebecca does it? After you had left last night Mr Adams did make some very strange suggestions, he was quite adamant about it!"

"No that was just a joke!" Flora replied, slightly horrified at the thoughts that must be going through Walter's mind.

"Damn!" Jarvis replied automatically a cheeky grin spreading over his handsome features.

"Walter Corey!" Flora exclaimed, shocked that her Walter would believe and even be amused by the idea of her with another woman. "You can get that thought out of your head this instant, believe me the truth is far more unbelievable. Mr Adams and Lady Rebecca…"

"Yes what about them?" Jarvis probed.

"Well their like us…"

"They have enough arms and legs between them?" Jarvis replied, snorting at his own joke, only stopping when an unamused Flora poked him sharply in the ribs.

"They're like us, in love, together…"

"Wait a minute!" Jarvis cut her off unable to believe what he was hearing. "Adams and Lady Rebecca together, really together, in the biblical sense?" To which Flora simply nodded, and Jarvis had to suppress the feelings of nausea, "What's wrong with the woman? Is she blind, stupid and entirely lacking any sense of smell?" Jarvis ranted.

"She loves him, and he loves her…Yes I know this is Mr Adams we're talking about, and normally I'd agree with you he hasn't a redeemable feature, before this I would have said he was incapable of loving anybody, not even his own daughter. But seeing him through Rebecca's eyes, he is a different man, around her at least."

"I see." Jarvis replied, his face now serious. "So you want me to leave it alone, or more to the point leave them alone!"

"Would you? I mean Adams has been behaving himself lately and working really hard, couldn't you cut him some slack just whilst she's here?"

"Hmmmmmmm, on one condition!" Jarvis replied, his face softening when he looked into her eyes.

"Which is?" Flora asked, slightly worried.

"Say that first bit again, but properly this time." Jarvis replied leaning forward and brushing his hand down the side of her face.

"What about, Rebecca and Mr Adams, Walter I know you find this hard to accept…"

"No about being love, like us!" Jarvis cut her off, gently tracing the outline of her lips.

Smiling broadly Flora leant forward and wrapped her arms around Walter's neck, "I love you Walter Corey."

"You're not so bad yourself Mrs Ryan!" Jarvis replied leaning down and joyfully pulling her into his arms, luxuriating in the feel of her, before kissing her softly.

Cut to Lady Rebecca's room. It is after dinner, and Lizzie is quietly laying out Rebecca's nightdress on her bed, while Rebecca is sitting still fully clothed, humming to herself and staring into her large, oval mirror as she applies face cream to her cheeks and lets down her locks.

Rebecca glancing up at Lizzie through the reflection in the mirror: So, Elizabeth, tell me about yourself. Have you worked here for a long time?

Lizzie picking up a hairbrush and beginning to comb Rebecca's hair: I haven't been here all that long, ma'am, I used to work in the kitchens at Balmoral.

Rebecca smiling softly, her hands placed neatly on her lap: Balmoral, how exciting! I have been there once or twice for a Hogmanay Ball, I suppose it is a bit more cosy here for you? And what made you come all the way down to Bristol?

Lizzie pausing for a second with the brush, twitching her nose as if working out what to say: It is lovely here, everyone is so nice. I came here, well, it's a long story.

Rebecca: Ooh, I love a long story, do tell!

Lizzie biting her lip before taking a deep breath - the first aristocrat she has told, the first one to take an interest: I came here to find my father, ma'am.

Rebecca raising her eyebrows and blinking, extremely curious at Lizzie's forthrightness: Oh my! What an adventure! Pardon my inquisitiveness, but did you? Does he work in the area?

Lizzie thinks for a moment - well there's no harm in telling, she supposes, it's reasonably acceptable for relations to work in the same houses, especially the big ones, so why not? As she opens her mouth to speak his name, the door flies open without a knock and a red-cheeked Francesca bounces in, the most animated Rebecca had ever seen her, she recalls fleetingly.

Franny gasping for breath, a broad smile on her round face: Oh Becca, guess who's just arriving! HUGO! Aren't you excited! Come on, smile!

Rebecca, too stunned for words, simply gapes from Lizzie to Franny, reminding Lizzie of one of the Earl's prize coy carp in the ornamental pond. Her eyes are wide in disbelief and she feels like all her insides have been turned upside down and shaken about, a mad ringing in her ears getting louder as the blood rushes around her head and blushes her cheeks

Franny still grinning, but a nasty glint in her eye: I thought I should keep it as a surprise for you, my dear! I knew you would be excited!

Rebecca her mouth dry as she struggles to her feet, her breathing shallow and erratic: You knew - you knew he was coming? And you didn't tell me!

Franny her smile dropping as her eyes pop wildly at Rebecca's reaction as if she hadn't predicted it: But, I thought, a lovely surprise, as I said!

Rebecca, ignoring her poor excuse, pushes past her sister and a startled Lizzie and flies down the stairs, almost tripping and falling. It is half way down that she sees Hugo standing in the hallway, being greeted by a slightly alarmed Mr Jarvis and a couple of bored-looking footmen. Her eyes manically search for Andrew, and to her discomfort she sees him standing a little way from the welcoming party, nothing more than a little confused as to why the Laird has turned up for the wedding, and at such a late hour. He remembers him as a frequent visitor to Highlands, an old friend of Rebecca's, but other than that the connection between him and the family had been slight.

Rebecca halts on the stairs, gripping the banister with such force she is sure she could snap it quite easily. Hugo is chatting quietly to Jarvis, apologising for such an unexpected and late visit, but that his carriage had lost a wheel and he had had to ride himself all the way to Taplows from Gloucester. After his brief explanation, carried out in the most charming and apologetic of manners, he looks up in Rebecca's direction, and smiles broadly on seeing her. Of course he is handsome and tall, a dashing figure and with a body any woman in her right mind would dream about. His jet black hair is swept across and ruffled from his ride, and his striking dark brown eyes sparkle enough to rival Rebecca's own. Stepping forward, he reaches out to her as Franny appears panting behind her, and what else can she do with so many eyes on her but smile back and accept his advance? Lifting her skirts she steps gracefully forward down the remaining stairs, her firey hair draped over her fine shoulders, while Adams frowns and backs away a little, rather intimidated by this new arrival and his overbearing presence. Why did he suddenly feel insignificant and small in Lady Rebecca's life?

Hugo taking her hand and placing a kiss on her cheek - the very same cheek Adams had kissed only hours earlier: Rebecca, my darling, how are you? So super to see you!

Rebecca managing a week smile: Oh, I'm fine, just wonderful, Hugo.

Lady Caroline suddenly appears from down the hallway, shrieking almost as loudly as she did on Rebecca's arrival, jumping up and down and staring at Hugo like he is the most attractive man she has ever seen in her life. Grinning in wonder at Rebecca, she tugs her arm, desperate for an explanation for such an intriguing arrival

Caroline giggling annoyingly to all those around her: Oh, who is this gentleman, Becca! Tell me, this is all so mysterious!

For a moment both Rebecca and Hugo stare at each other, not sure who is going to speak, not sure who more to the point wants to speak. Hugo looks down at her left hand and sees she isn't wearing her ring - she mustn't have told them! But it is too late, and Franny can't help but blurt it out, her eyes focused on the quiet servant standing and watching from the back

Franny clapping her hands and gazing at Rebecca and Hugo as if they are the most perfect couple: Oh, hasn't she told you, Caroline! They're engaged to be married! Isn't it wonderful news? Papa is delighted, as am I! The wedding is in a few weeks at Highlands, everyone will be there! You must come!

Caroline squeals for joy, but Rebecca barely notices, the despair spreading across her face as her eyes lock with Adams'. The under-butler stands motionless for a moment, Jarvis instinctively looking over towards him to gage a reaction, but none came. Rebecca shook her head gently at him, pleading with him to understand, to not be angry, but he doesn't do a thing. But, inside, Adams feels like he has been hit by the full force of a carriage being pulled by ten galloping horses, and he fears that if he does move his legs might give way and he will crash to the ground in hopelessness. Jarvis, a little concerned for Adams' mental state, nods to him to leave, but for another minute his eyes won't leave Rebecca's, drawing her into him, but all of a sudden he looks away, the sheer sadness and shock finally beginning to show as he turns and heads quickly away from the scene, and from Rebecca, whom he swears he never, ever wants to see again.

An hour or so later, and it had been a very difficult decision for Rebecca to make. Venturing across to the servants quarters would be a brand new experience for her, and to risk being seen, or worse questioned as to her intentions, could risk exposing herself and Andrew to malicious gossip or worse. But it had to be done if she is to try to save their relationship, to explain to him that it is a marriage of convenience after unbearable amounts of pressure from her over-bearing father desperate to see his elder daughter married off, and that Hugo isn't all that he seems. That...no, she can't tell him that, she just can't, she had vowed to Hugo she would keep it a secret forever and that's exactly what she would do. Unless she tells Flora, of course. Andrew must have known that this day would come, that she would have to marry to keep the kind of life and position in society she is accustomed to. Surely he knows that she would marry him in an instant if she could, have his children and live happily ever after, but in the cold light of day she has to be realistic.

Looking around her room she had grabbed the nearest book to hand, thankfully it wasn't THAT book, as that would have appeared somewhat suspicious to the learned eye, instead she decided to take with her a safe choice - the latest Dickens - so she could say she is returning a book he had left at Highlands. She had nearly chosen a Jane Austen, but considered that nobody would believe that Andrew would read such a 'female' novel, so once she had made her choice she had purposefully left her room, slipping out before Lizzie turned up to brush her hair. But, just as she had shut the door behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin to turn round to see her sour-faced sister glaring at her accusingly. To her horror, Franny grabbed her by the arm, pulling her forcefully down the corridor like she was a disobedient child.

Rebecca desperately trying to shake her off, the book almost slipping from her grasp: Franny, get off me! What is wrong with you!

Franny roughly swinging her round, almost smacking her against the wall: You're going to see HIM, aren't you! When your fiancé is waiting for you! You are a disgrace to your family name, bedding a servant!

Rebecca anxiously glancing up and down the corridor, panic gripping her stomach: Shhh, someone might hear! Or is that what you want, everyone to know so I am completely ruined and you become father's favourite!

Without warning, Franny's hand flew out, striking Rebecca right across the cheek, causing her to lurch sideways and wince with pain. Immediately, her eyes filled with tears as she gasped in shock, placing her hand over her stinging face, unable to speak. The hatred her younger sister had just shown towards her had completely taken her by surprise - they had never been close, Franny's jealousy of her sister's popularity developing into a fierce resentment over the years, but for something like this to happen? It was unheard of! But Franny, showing no sign of remorse but a instead a more intensified spite, moved closer in on Rebecca as if finally she could break her and reduce her to a gibbering wreck

Franny hissing angrily, her nose almost touching Rebecca's, their eyes locked: Why do you insist on upsetting father? If he found out about this it would kill him, you know he's always thought highly of you, goodness knows why! You are to end it, d'you hear me!

Rebecca struggling to gather her senses, her body falling against the wall through shaking as her voice cracked in distress: But I love him! And he loves me! Surely you can understand...!

Franny: LOVE! Since when did love actually have anything to do with the decisions women have to take to stay respected in society? You don't even know this man, how can you love him? He's a servant, he's not put on the earth to be loved, Rebecca, come to your senses!

Rebecca trying to pull away, frantic to run from the torture being inflicted by her own sister: I do know him, I know him very well! I know he's loving, and kind, and gentle, and has more feeling than any of the useless suitors forced on me by Papa!

Franny snarling her lip and glowering in complete contempt: Sounds like you KNOW HIM in the truest sense of the word! You disgust me, Rebecca, it's about time you grew up and took responsibility! If you go to see him, well, I may have no choice!

By then the tears were freely flowing down Rebecca's cheeks, her beautiful face consumed with sadness and frustration, but she wasn't about to give in to the bullying and the manipulation her sister was so good at. Pushing Franny hard out of the way, she lifts her skirts and takes off down the corridor, the book tucked under her arm while frantically wiping her eyes

Rebecca calling back over her shoulder to a seething Francesca: Do what you like! I'm going to see him, I love him more than anything and I will never stop, NEVER! There is nothing to be done or said to change my mind, and if that means we have to live in a one roomed wooden hut in the middle of nowhere then so be it, at least I'll be happy, unlike you and your loveless marriage!

Now, desperately shaking all terrible thoughts of the past few minutes, she finds herself facing his door - or at least she thinks it's his door. She has remembered rather well Flora's rather precise directions, which she had asked for in case of emergencies. Clutching the book to her chest, she scans up the corridor before knocking lightly and waiting impatiently for a response. But none came. Gulping hard and picking up her skirts, she pushes the unlocked door open ajar, quietly calling out his name, but the room is dark, with only the moonlight for guidance. Frowning, her heart pounding, she enters the room, carefully placing the book on a chair, but as luck would have it the moon illuminates a half-burnt candle with a taper next to it on his writing desk. Rebecca hurriedly lights it, then raises it up to glance around the room. The first thing she notices is no Andrew, but the second thing she sees is just how small and sparse the room is. She bites her lip as she looks from the uninviting, scruffy bed to the rather empty bookshelves and a small chest of drawers, on which stands a slightly chipped jug and a pile of unworn socks. It hits her like a thunderbolt - this is all he has in the world, a part of his life she has never seen, and probably he never wants her to see. Here was she, in her gilded cage of comforts and prosperity, and here was he, trying to make her happy while serving the very people she can hardly bear to be around. How can he possibly love her when his way of life has been determined by the very society she represents?

A pair of trousers and a shirt is strewn across his easy chair with wild abandon, and covering the floor by his bed are a few letters and an empty whiskey bottle. Rebecca gasps in worry, bending down to pick up one of the letters as she recognises the writing - her writing. The letter in question is the first one she wrote to him, and its crumpled state indicates to her that he must have read it numerous times, as if he had been so amazed to hear from her again. In her haste she had failed to notice the pocket watch gleaming up at her from the floor, its casement open and the clock face staring up at her. Tossing the letter aside she very nearly stands on it, but seeing it just in time she scoops it up, snapping the lid shut and clutching it tightly in her palm close to her breast, the tears of worry and sadness beginning to swim in her eyes. Shaking her head and letting out a dainty whimper, she snatches up the whiskey bottle and stares at it, wondering exactly how much has he drunk in a few hours? Her whole body feeling numb, she scans furiously around the room as if he would suddenly emerge from one of the walls to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. Where is he? Is he still drinking? Has he done something stupid? What's this? Lowering the candle to the desk, she notices a fairly small writing book, open with an uncleaned quill sitting in its spine. Placing the candle on the desk, she removes the quill and curiously lifts the book up and hurriedly reads the last few sentences:

'Why has she done this to me? She obviously doesn't love for me or even care any more, I could kill him for this! Coming here in his fancy clothes, taking my Lady away from me, taking away everything I care for! Apart from Elizabeth. I might as well tell R all about her now, now we're over...'

The scrawly sentence trails off, the handwriting so bad that it is obvious some of that now empty bottle had gone down his neck prior to picking up his quill. Rebecca's mouth falls open at the mention of Elizabeth, surely he doesn't mean Lizzie, surely it doesn't mean what she thinks it means? Breathing heavily, panic rising in her stomach, she slams the diary back on the table and begins to flick through, reading the odd passage, her mind racing as her eyes dart from sentence to sentence erratically as she hurries to find out what Lizzie means to him. Then, calmly, she shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath - this is stupid, she isn't going to find out anything like this, best to start from the beginning. So bringing the candle closer to her she settles down into his chair, her shawl wrapped over her shoulders, and begins, the diary dating from the previous autumn when Andrew started at Taplows, completely oblivious to the fact that people, including Lizzie, may be looking for her.

Outside, Adams is sat on the step in the courtyard, a cold chill whistling round his ears and freezing his toes. It is a clear night, the stars twinkling down on him and the moon round and bright illuminating where he sits, the spotlight of the world shining on poor, stupid, rather drunk Andrew Adams. He is done with thinking - if he thinks any more he is sure that his brain will either explode or go to sleep completely, but yet he continues to sit, hardly noticing the cold, the warmth of too much whiskey gurgling around in his stomach. He is done with the whys and hows, wishing Rebecca had never come back into his life, that she had stayed at Highlands and never written to him ever again.

In the end he would have found some slapper in town to do it with regularly, probably moan all his troubles to - yes, that would have done nicely, no strings attached, no heartache, none of this overrated falling in love romantic rubbish. Best to leave all that to the damn aristocrats who have all the time in the world to mess up each other's lives and destroy each other's hope - he - Andrew Adams - doesn't have time for that. Too much work to do, too much scheming to be done and money to be made, too much drinking to do. Sod it, why should he give up his alcohol? At least its loyal, you know what it's got to offer and that you'll definitely find comfort in it somewhere, and it doesn't answer back or tell you you should or shouldn't drink it.

He had run completely out of whiskey and had resorted to knocking back Kraus' homebrew, but his taste buds are so numb by now he could probably drink the washing up water from the scullery and not notice the difference between that and the finest malt. Finally, he drags himself up, leaning against the wall for support, his feet dead with cold and the effects of over and hour of drinking without moving. His vision suddenly becomes blurred, and the cobblestones seem to become larger then smaller again, closer then further away. Mumbling to himself, he lurches forward but accidently the glass slips from his grip and crashes to the ground, causing a cat perched on the window ledge to yelp and dash away.

But he doesn't care. He could break all the glassware in the goddamn house and he would just laugh it off. The urge to use the toilet suddenly grips his bladder, so he pulls himself along the wall so he is a safe distance from the window so he can relieve himself, which he only just manages to do. Turning back to stare at the sky, which now appeared to be falling in on top of him, Adams rubs his eyes in frustration as his mixed-up emotions begin to take hold, tearing at his very soul until he can bear it no more. Head in his hands, he slides down the wall, alone and confused, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he begins to sob uncontrollably, his life pulled to tatters by the only woman he has ever loved. After a minute or two, he pushes his head back so the coolness of the air can sweep across his face, as a churning in his stomach makes him gasp.

Too late. Leaping up and forward, Adams vomits over the cobbles, a mixture of alcohol, despair and downright tiredness taking its toll on the under-butler's shaky system. Realising that the only thing he can do now is sleep it off - a long, uninterrupted sleep, where hopefully he won't dream about Rebecca for a minute - so holding that thought he zig-zags back into the house, wiping his mouth and eyes with his handkerchief and leaning against wall after wall on his way to his room. As he approaches his door, even in his drunken state, he can see that the door is open. He often forgot to lock it, and tonight was no exception, but to have left it open slightly? Frowning in confusion, he stretches his arm out and leans against the doorframe, pushing the door open with the other. What he sees makes him gasp in shock.

Meanwhile upstairs Grace May had once more been put in charge of the children, fortunately for her this brood were far better behaved than the Fiffiington-Piffles, and had acquiesced quietly to her requests to eat their supper, take their baths and go to bed. It was only as she was putting the youngest to bed, the little girl with the golden curls, who she now knew was called Jennifer, that she noticed how flushed the child was. Feeling her forehead she realised quickly the child had a slight fever and was burning up, and so quickly dashed downstairs to find Mrs Ryan, and get the housekeepers opinion on the matter. On her way downstairs engrossed in her thoughts she barely noticed Will come dashing out of Lord Hugo's room, a suspicious looking package under his arm, spotting Grace staring at him Will immediately tried to hide it behind his back, but the maid was not so easily deceived and she stormed over to Will holding out her hand for whatever he was hiding.

"Hand it over William Forest, I would have thought you of people wouldn't be stupid enough to steal from a guest!" Grace hissed spitefully.

"It's not stealing!" Will retorted, "Its only borrowing, I'm going to put it back after I've used it first!"

"How can it be borrowing, if you don't ask permission first?" Grace asked, "What is it anyway?"

"Ahhhhhhh, that's for me to know and you to wait and see Miss May!" Will replied cheekily before turning and dashing off down the corridor leaving a bemused and worried Grace behind him.

Downstairs the housekeeper and butler were sitting in her parlour, well in reality Flora was sitting whereas Mr Jarvis was stalking round the room, his hands flying everywhere as he over-exaggerated his movements, comically reacting the arrival that morning of their guests and the subsequent dinner.

"So you've got Lady Francesca sitting on one side of Lord Farquherson, and Lady Rebecca on the other, neither sister is talking to the other, but when there is a lull in the conversation each are looking daggers at the other. On either side of them are their respective other halves, and every time Lord Hamilton-Hussy reaches to put something on his plate his wife shoots him the most reproachful of glances, no wonder the poor man looks so thin. Then you have poor lord Hugo who is desperately trying to fend off the amorous advances of Lady Caroline, who seems completely oblivious to anything her own fiancée says in order to catch her attention and simply rolls her eyes at him in annoyance, so poor Julian ends up trying to join in the conversation between the Earl and Lord Farquherson, but they're engaged in discussion the Fiffington-Piffle scandal and so completely ignore him as well."

Flora who is practically in stitches, holds her sides as she is laughing so hard, "oh poor Julian!" She whispers breathlessly. "Walter you are awful…"

"Really?" Jarvis asks a mischievous glint on his face as he walks over to her pulling her into his arms. "If you think that is naughty of me then you really don't want to know the plans I have for you this evening!"

"Walter…" Flora began warningly, "you promised to be patient with me!"

"Yes and I still intend to be, I'm not going to force you into anything you're not ready for, however that doesn't mean we can't go for a quiet stroll this evening, and if we end up getting slightly amorous in the stables all the better, after all I think it's time you had a stock check I'd like to make sure everything is still where I remember it!"

Shocked Flora pushed him away playfully, "And what sort of stock check would this be Mr Jarvis, personally I could have sworn you got a good look at all my assets the other evening when you were so gracious as to put me to bed?"

"Ah yes, but there really is nothing like a hands on verification!" Jarvis quipped cheekily, grabbing a squeeze of her bottom as if to prove his point.

A shocked Flora was just about to retort when suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Felix Kraus pocked his head round it, blushing slightly as he realised he was interrupting the couple, he apologised and went to leave, but Flora pushed away Walters embrace and seizing Felix by the arm dragged him into the room.

"How can we help you Felix?" The housekeeper asked, as she pulled out a chair for the chef, herself moving to sit beside him, whereas a sulking Jarvis decided to settle in the fireside chair, ignoring the chef's presence and staring stubbornly into the fire.

"Ah well I thought it was about time we went over the final wedding plans, I understand we have more guests than originally planned?" Felix asked slightly concerned, his glance flicking over to Jarvis, irritated by the Butler's apparent disinterest.

"Yes, we had a surprise visitor this evening, and of course the children, we weren't expecting them either, but apparently they are such "Darlings" that lady Caroline decided she wanted them all as her bridesmaids and page boys, and so sent word to Lady Francesca to bring them without informing us, she forgot to apparently!"

"Children!" Felix squeaked nervously, the incidents with the monstrous Fiffington-Piffles still at the forefront of his mind.

"Don't worry Felix, this brood are apparently well behaved, I doubt you will even see them whilst they are here!" Flora replied reassuringly.

Then just as the relieved chef was about to speak, there was another knock on the door, and this time in was Grace who wanted to speak with Mrs Ryan. The housekeeper left the room reluctantly, gazing nervously between Felix and Walter, hoping that nothing would happen between the pair before she returned.

For a moment neither man spoke, Jarvis content to sit and stare into the fire, not even acknowledging the chef's presence, leaving Felix to get more and more annoyed by the Butler's unforgivably rude behaviour.

"Walter for God's sake what the hell is the matter?" Chef finally spoke, breaking the tense silence.

"What could possibly be the matter?" Jarvis replied sarcastically still staring into the fire.

"Are you angry at me for some reason, for interrupting? If you had something planned for this evening I could leave you both two it, after it can wait till tomorrow!" Felix replied, worried by the coldness in the Butler's tone.

"Yes, why don't you do that?" Jarvis replied, the distain practically dripping from his voice.

However before the chef could leave Flora, re-entered the room, dashing across to her alcove and retrieving her medicine box, causing the butler to look up from the flames for the first time since the chef had entered the room and gazing after her in concern.

"What's happened?" He asked quickly getting to his feet and moving over to her.

"It's the little girl, Jennifer, Grace says she has a fever, so I'm just going to go upstairs and inform her mother and then arrange for the doctor."

"And then?" Jarvis asked his disappointment clear on his face.

"Oh for heavens sake Walter, we'll see, I can't go abandoning my responsibilities, just because you're feeling a little…" Then she stopped herself remembering they weren't alone, "yes well, I'll be off we'll just have to finish this meeting tomorrow, I'm sorry Felix, but we will sort it out I promise." And with that she turned and dashed out the door, handing her box over to Grace before turning and heading upstairs, leaving the chef and Butler alone once more.

Huffing slightly a most put out Butler stormed towards the door, but as he passed the chef, Felix laid a hand on his arm. "Oh come on Walter it's not like she has any choice."

Disgusted Jarvis shook off Felix's hand and backed away from the chef, his feelings clear on his face, and the chef had to stifle a gasp of astonishment. How could he know?

"How, who? Flora wouldn't!"

"No it wasn't her, it was Frank!" And with a final sneer Jarvis turned and stormed off to his own office, to find solace in a rather large brandy and one of his cigars, leaving a shocked and worried chef behind.

Cut back to Adams' room, where he is blinking in disbelief. Rebecca is sat, furiously ripping and tugging at the pages in the diary, tears pouring out of her red eyes and tumbling down her flushing cheeks as she sobs loudly, pages scattered carelessly around her. She barely notices Adams until he staggers forward and immediately tries in vain to grab the diary off her, not knowing what else he can do to try to bring her under control. Swinging round, Rebecca glares at him through her tearful eyes, wailing and flinging the diary at the door with a forceful and loud thud before pushing him off and collapsing back into the chair, weeping as her whole frame shakes in despair as the words from those terrible pages swim around in her head. Adams glances fearfully around his room, the sight of Rebecca in his quarters sobering him up slightly. He never for a moment wanted her to see him like this, but the anger began to take hold again and he forces himself upright, staring down at her, furious at this invasion of his privacy. Of course she had come to reason with him over Hugo, but he just isn't interested, and now she had read his diary, that had to be the very last straw.

Adams gulping hard, suppressing any small desire to comfort her: What the hell are you doing in my room, Rebecca? And reading my diary too! Come to have a good gloat, I'm surprised you didn't bring him with you, so you could both have a good laugh at a servant!

Rebecca snatching up one of the crumpled pages and brandishing it, her delicate face stained and raw: You have a daughter! Elizabeth is your CHILD! How could you not tell me!

Adams snorting in contempt: Oh so you're about to lecture me about keeping secrets, is that right! I didn't know about Lizzie until I came here, that's the honest truth. She came to find me, God knows why, and the reason I didn't tell you….well I didn't want to complicate matters between us.

Rebecca throwing down the page and roughly searching for another: I thought her eyes reminded me of someone! Were you ashamed of her? What happened, did you abandon her like you abandoned me, eh!

Suddenly Adams lurches forward, and with a roar sweeps everything off the table including the torn sheets of paper and the quill and ink, causing Rebecca to yelp in shock and leap back out of her chair, her skirts catching on a nail in the chair and tearing with a loud rip. Running to the corner of the room, her hand clasped over her mouth, Rebecca's eyes begin to well up with fresh tears as Adams stalks over to her, his vision spinning and his heart pounding so hard in his chest he is sure she can hear it

Adams stopping a little way from her and leaning on the chest of drawers: I didn't abandon her, I didn't even know she existed! If I had, well, it would have been different! And I didn't abandon you either, I thought you understood, what with my debt…..

Rebecca spite in her usually soft voice, her hair desheviled and draping down her back: Oh yes, your debt – paid for you by Mr Jarvis out of the goodness of his heart, you threatened to jump!

Adams tutting and curling his lip cynically: Oh yes, very good of him I'm sure! Now he has a hold on me, I can't breathe wrongly without that little one coming back to haunt me, now I'll be paying him back until my dying day!

Rebecca letting her guard down a little, her eyes large and pleading: If you had come to me I could have helped…..

Adams sniffing out a laugh: Oh, spare me your pity, I don't need it! And I don't need your money either! Why did you even come here, shouldn't you be all cosy with the lovely Hugo tucked in your bed!

Rebecca flinging her arms up, her softening expression hardening again: Oh yes, and of course we mustn't forget the delights of Mrs Stanwick now must we! What was it you said? Oh yes, that she 'gave it good and gave it hard', or words to that effect! I'm glad she was so satisfactory for you, don't think you've ever given ME such a good write up, maybe you should think about publishing your work of literary genius!

Adams closing in on her, the alcohol pungent on his breath: She didn't mean anything, she was just easy and we were lonely, we didn't even use a bed, it was outside….

Rebecca pushing past him and manically searching through the pile on the floor: Yes, in a bush or similar I believe, well I'm glad you could still have your fun through your heartache! It's nothing physical with Hugo, it's to be a marriage of convenience, I'm only guilty of securing my future, and nothing more!

Adams: Convenience, eh? So another poor fellow you're taking for a ride! What was I, just a convenience too? You just used me to rebel against your father, you don't really love me at all – I'm just a….just a plaything to you, silly Andrew the lowly servant, take what you can get and damn the consequences! I don't know why I ever believed you could feel anything real for me, you're just as superficial as the rest of them and embarrassed of our affair!

Rebecca swinging round, the pain gripping her dainty features, her voice now shrill: That's not true! I was never embarrassed, not ever! I loved….I STILL love you, Andrew, but all your lies, all your secrets, your dark secrets – about William Forest, what did you do to him! A break-in you told everyone, but no, all lies! No wonder you never wanted me to see what goes on down here, why you always told me to stay away, not to protect me but to protect YOU! You disgust me now, I don't know if I can forgive you, ever!

Adams, the rage growing rapidly inside him, moves as swiftly as a drunk man can towards Rebecca, gripping her hands and forcing them up away from the table and her frantic scrabbling. Breathing heavily, her full lips slightly apart, she looks away from him as his eyes search her body, from the rip in her skirts right up to her bare shoulders, her dress no longer neatly sitting off the shoulder but through her hysterics it had worked its way down slightly so the top of her chest is just visible to him. Feeling his eyes burning into her through their tortured silence, Rebecca finally looks back at him to see a bizarre mixture of fury and unadulterated lust on his face, but instead of pulling away from him like she knew she should, she feels drawn to him, unable to shake his gaze.

As if a switch had been flicked, their sudden desire for each other takes over and Adams drops her hands and forcefully pulls her in by her waist, spinning her round and pushing his body up against and pressing her into the wall. Their lips lock in a deep, all-consuming kiss, his hands roaming desperately over her tight waist and stomach. Without even pausing for breath, he releases her lips and vigorously kisses her cheek and chin, and down the side of her neck as she pulls him closer to her, gasping and throwing her head back in passion. There is no time to consider the rights or wrongs of this strange desire through their furious arguing, it just seems to be happening and neither has the will-power to stop it.

In needy urgency Adams begins to tear at her dress, awkwardly unlacing her corset while hungrily kissing her shoulder and collar bone as she roughly pushes off his jacket. Completely immersed in each other, they fail to notice a pair of tearful and anxious eyes peering at them through the crack in the door, before the eyes' owner whimpers gently and hurries off down the corridor, their light footsteps failing to alert them. With a low growl, the under-butler moves his Lady towards the bed, falling gently on top of her, his lips and hands still moving about her, but just as she reaches down he stops instantly, resting his head on her chest.

Rebecca cooing breathlessly: Andrew, what is wrong? Why have you stopped?

Adams looks up at her, sadness once more spreading across his features. Sniffing, he pulls himself off her without a word, the urgency to have her gone from his eyes, but still the look of lust remaining. Confused by this, Rebecca pulls up her corset and dress to cover herself, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious as the realisation of their actions hits her

Adams sorrow rather than anger flooding his tone: I'm drunk, I think you should go, Rebecca. Besides you're engaged, its not right, I….I vowed before I never wanted to see you again, and it's true. I still love you, I will always love you, but I can't do this. I really can't. It was bad enough before when we had to hide it, but now, well, I'm sorry. Trust me, it's better this way.

Rebecca her chin wobbling as she climbs off the bed, quivering: I haven't slept with him, I told you, it's not like that!

Adams shaking his head vigorously, moving towards the door: Yes but you're still going to have to share his bed, you will still have to consummate your marriage, and I can't bear that thought. It can only be professional between us now, it's too late.

Rebecca stands hopelessly in front of him for a moment, unable to speak. He is ending it? He really is finishing their relationship, when they're both still in love each other, both still desire each other? What was that all about, the kissing just then, how he had wanted her so much he couldn't control himself? Well, she hopes her destructive sister will be happy now!

Rebecca desperately trying to think up a suitable retort to save herself face: Well, that sounds just fine to me! I was about to say exactly the same thing! You're a brute, beating up defenceless people…….

Adams gasping at her sheer audacity: He tried to kill me! Tried to drown me!

Rebecca still clutching her dress and stalking to the door: Well, two wrongs DO NOT make a right, Mr Adams! And your daughter, what about her! You tried to get her kicked out by framing her for things she never said, you beat up Mr Forest AGAIN, took Mr Jarvis' money, had some floozy housekeeper because you felt like – or felt HER, more like – you're despicable, I'm better off with Hugo obviously, I don't even find you attractive any more!

Ending her ranting as quickly as it had begun, Adams sees in her eyes that her heart is telling her completely the opposite, that she does still love him, that her cruel words are just a cover for her broken heart. Still, he convinces himself not to bend

Adams his voice hard but his expressionless face unreadable: I don't blame you, I'm hardly a catch anyway, unlike the wonderful Laird. Go to him, go on! As soon as this wedding is done with, I hope you and your new fiancé have a wonderful life together up in Highlands!

He flings open the door, ushering her out. Fleetingly, she turns and their eyes lock, possibly for the very last time, but before Adams can gage anything but hurt on her face she glances down the corridor before hurrying away, her faint sobbing catching his ear as she turns the corner. Slamming the door forcefully, Adams turns to face his room. The pages from his diary are littering the floor, the diary itself lying crumpled and bent by his feet, and his eye catches his pocket watch which Rebecca had placed on his bedside table. Picking it up, he flips open the lid and stares sorrowfully at their engraved initials forever marked in the gold, the tears beginning to moisten his eyes.

Gulping hard, Adams notices a piece of material still hooked onto the nail in the chair, so tugging it loose he runs his finger over its silky finish, reminding him of all those times he has felt the warmth and softness of her body through such exquisite fabric. Oh, what has he done by cutting her out of his life forever? He had done it to save himself heartache, but in reality all it did was make him even more miserable, and make him want to drink more and more alcohol until his liver would give up altogether out of sheer exhaustion. Snapping the watch shut, he flings open a drawer and throws it in, but as he is about to put the material into his bin he thinks twice and places it in the drawer with the watch – the only things left to remind him of Rebecca apart from the memories.

He curses himself for his own stupidity, leaving his diary out and open, just begging to be read by prying eyes – why oh why did those eyes have to belong to her? Damn it all! In a sudden fit of new rage, he snatches up the empty alcohol bottle, a symbol and sickening reminder of his reason for leaving Highlands in the first place, and with the last bit of energy left in his body he hurls it angrily across the room, smashing it loudly against the wall.

But as he does so, without any warning, his breath catches in his throat as an intense pain shoots through his left arm and chest, far more severe than the previous night on the stairs. His eyes widening and his face reddening, he grips his upper arm firmly as his legs begin to give way, but he can do nothing to prevent himself from crashing into his chair, tripping over it and falling onto the bed. In agony, Adams presses his chest hard to try to stifle the pain, but nothing seems to be working. He breathlessly calls out 'Rebecca!' but as he guessed no help comes, he is alone and desperately worried for his life.

His whole body now tortured, he writhes on his bed before accidently slipping off with a thud, but as he tries to haul himself back up, snatching furiously at his covers, the pain in his chest intensifies to such an extent that his feeble grip gives way and he falls backwards, slamming his head hard into the wall. As he lands painfully on the glass from the broken bottle, shards cutting into his trousers and piercing his bottom, everything begins to spin wildly around him, so any further attempt to get himself back onto something comfortable is impossible.

He only has a second to blame the alcohol before blood trickles down his cheek from his stinging head wound, his vision becoming blacker as a wave of nausea and cramp surges through his stomach. With one last squeeze of his helpless arm, his last thoughts are of Rebecca, how much he loves her, and if this is the end for him how sorry he is that he hadn't taken his chance to make up with her, before he slips silently into a deep unconsciousness.

Meanwhile oblivious to the plight of either her friend or the under butler an incandescent Flora Ryan stormed along the long Gallery heading towards the nursery, wisps of hair that had escaped from under her cap did nothing to soften the look of absolute fury on her face, and several servants found themselves diving into doorways just to get out of her way. Muttering phrases and expletives under breath that would have made her colleague's mouths open in shock had they heard them, she finally reached her destination and without knocking she flung open the door, causing Grace May to jump up suddenly from her seat by Jennifer's bedside.

"Mrs Ryan?" Grace squeaked quietly, indicating nervously to the other beds in the room, where the rest of the children were tucked up asleep.

Huffing slightly under her breath, Flora let out the tense breath she had been holding, and reluctantly nodded moving to close the door behind her as quietly as possible. Grace unwilling to disturb the children any further stood up and moved towards the housekeeper, whispering "Is the doctor coming?"

"Yes, I've sent for him! Although if her mother had her way, she would have had me wait till the child was covered in big red blotches so she could be sure she wasn't faking it before calling him. Honestly some people should never be allowed to have children, there I was trying to tell her that her youngest was seriously ill, and all she was interested in was getting me to leave as soon as possible so she could resume her oh so important discussion with Lady Caroline as to the ideal way to deal with your in-laws. It makes me so angry!...Women like her carry and deliver a child, at great risk to their own life, and then after all that effort and pain and tears, just hand it over to a complete stranger to raise, only trotting out their children to perform like some circus animals when the occasion arises!... It's just not fair…" Flora trailed off, her rage spent and her eyes suddenly filling with tears.

Grace realised instantly having these children here had touched a nerve for the housekeeper, who should by rights have now been in her last trimester, and so soothingly she patted her on the arm. "I'm sorry; it must be so hard…" Grace muttered.

"Well you know Grace…" Flora replied, looking at the maid with an almost pleading expression on her face. "What it feels like, to lose a child…Nobody else can understand, not even Walter, although he does try so hard."

"Yes, but it wasn't really the same…" Grace replied, unsure how much the housekeeper knew or suspected about her accident. "I wasn't as far along, and besides it wasn't as though I desperately wanted the baby…So it was more of the physical shock for me."

"I suppose, but at least you have plenty of time and chances in the future for a family…I…" Flora trailed off, unable to finally reveal her deepest held fear.

"You could always try again?" Grace added softly.

Flora shook her head vigorously, "You don't understand, the doctor said after I lost the baby that he wasn't sure I would be able to conceive again, and even if I did somehow manage it at my age, whether or not having miscarried at such a late stage would have make it impossible for me to carry full term."

"But you don't know that for sure, even the doctor isn't certain, you won't know until you try…Isn't it worth the risk?" Grace asked.

For a moment the housekeeper didn't answer she walked over to the fireplace, her silk skirts swishing softly against the polished wooden floor, as she turned to gaze at the sleeping children, before turning back to face Grace. "I can't, I can't go through that again, getting mine and Walter's hopes up only to have them dashed, I wouldn't survive it; it's so much easier on both of us to pretend I don't want children than to have to face the possibility of wanting them and not being able!"

Sighing to herself, Grace had to admit the housekeeper had a point, but she just hated to see her so unhappy, with no glimmer of hope to latch onto and so she wandered over to Jennifer's bed not knowing what to say. As she was dampening another cloth to lay on the little girls brow, she turned and saw the housekeeper sit down on the edge of the bed, brushing the damp curls away from Jennifer's face, such a look of maternal concern on her face that it made Grace's heart ache to see it. Leaning forward she placed the cloth on Jennifer's forehead, unintentionally causing the feverish little girl to stir in her sleep, and open her eyes gazing up at the housekeeper, her bright blue eyes dulled by the fever now started to well with tears as she looked frantically round the room for someone.

"Lala..Lala.." Jennifer called out softly, her tears now spilling onto her flushed cheeks.

The housekeeper turned and looked at Grace quizzingly. "Who's Lala?

"She was their last nanny, but she was recently dismissed because Lady Francesca thought the children were becoming too dependant on her, she pandered to them too much apparently!" Grace replied, her tone indicating just what she thought of Lady Francesca's decision.

Shaking her head Flora leant down and smiled softly at the child, "I'm sorry my dear but Lala isn't here, but don't worry Grace and I will take good care of you!" But that did not appear to console the child, whose tears were falling thick and fast. Instinctively Flora stood up and wrapping the blankets securely round the child scooped her up into her arms, carrying her over to the rocking chair by the fire. Sitting down she held the child in her arms, hugging and rocking her as she brushed away the tears with her thumb, smoothing the curls away from her face she whispered soothingly until the child began to drift off to sleep once more.

It was like this an hour or so later that the doctor accompanied by Mr Jarvis found them. Walter had stopped dead in his tracks, unable to stop the tears that welled in his eyes, it just looked so right, like something out of his own imaginings to see her there by the fire a child in her arms. For a moment he could picture her with their child, her giggling and cooing over it, laughing at its every expression, the baby reaching out and grasping hold of a lock of its mother's hair, tugging so hard that Flora would have to call out to him to come and rescue her from impending baldness.

However he was quickly jarred out of his own daydream by Grace, the maid gently tugged on his sleeve to draw him back to reality, "Mr Jarvis, the Earl sir, he'd like to see you, something about a household rearrangement!" She said, a slight puzzled expression on her face at the bizarre wording of the summons, but Jarvis realised exactly what he meant, either more wage cuts or more sackings, neither of which was a particularly appealing topic at this time of night. Reluctantly he turned and with a quick nod of acknowledgement in the doctor's direction he backed out of the door, his gaze not leaving Flora until the door was closed behind him.

It wasn't long before the doctor came up with his diagnosis. "I'm afraid it's German Measles Mrs Ryan, a particularly nasty case!"

"Oh no, is her life in danger?" The housekeeper exclaimed.

"We've caught it in the early stages, so as long as she has round the clock care and you make sure to keep getting fluids down her she should pull through, however we are going to have to move her to her own room, are any of the other children showing symptoms?"

"Not that I am aware of, Grace?" The housekeeper turned and asked the young maid, who shook her head decidedly.

"Well if they haven't already had the condition then it is likely they will have caught it from their sister, I would advise all adults who have never had it to stay away as well, and in particular…I'm not sure how to out this politely, but any ladies in the family way so to speak!" He said looking pointedly at both Grace and Flora, a look of relief flitting over his face when both of them failed to react. "Well that is some compensation at any rate." He added, breathing out suddenly.

"Why?" Flora asked curious, "what affect does it have?"

"Well there have been numerous cases where pregnant women have been exposed, and it has had devastating affects on the child, so please Mrs Ryan issue a general warning to your girls, regardless of whether you think any of them are at risk or not! I'll visit in the morning around nine to check on her progress, and if they require it discuss her treatment with her parents."

"Of course, well I suppose we'd better move her, Grace I hate to ask this of you but could you make up Lord Harry's old room, we are going to need her to be closer at hand if she needs round the clock attention, then you go get some sleep, I'll stay with her for the rest of the night."

"Yes Mrs Ryan!" Grace replied, and she headed downstairs to go get some clean linen and to show the doctor out, leaving the housekeeper alone. Scooping the child up into her arms she made her way slowly and gently, so as not to wake her charge, down the hallway completely oblivious of the young footman that appeared out the shadows and followed her curiously.

It was some time later, after Jennifer had been comfortably settled in her new room, and Grace had disappeared off to her own bed, that the door to Lord Harry's room opened gently and Will snuck his head round the door. Flora was seated by the bed, fast asleep her head resting against the high back of her chair, where in an effort to make herself more comfortable she had let down her hair and unbuttoned the first few clasps on her dress. Will had to stifle a gasp at seeing her so free and relaxed, the flickering candle casting dancing shadows across her face.Slowly he walked over and gently brushed the loose strands from her face, carefully arranging her curls so they cascaded over her shoulders and did not obscure his view. For a moment he paused deliberating the necessity, but then he caved in and carefully so not to wake her, he unfastened the few remaining clasps on her dress, gently pushing it completely off her shoulders. Allowing himself the luxury of tracing the outline of her collarbone and skimming his fingers across the tops of her breasts which at his touch strained delightfully against the restraint of her corset, her skin goosepimpling under his fingers.

Smiling Will, now powerless to stop himself let his fingers fall to the lacing of her corset and he gently teased the bow undone, however as he began to unlace her corset he forced himself to stop. Shaking his head, he realised this wasn't how he wanted this to happen, deep down he had a vision of how it could be between them, and it had always involved her unlacing it for him. Somehow he managed to find the strength to withdraw, to forgo his more primal desires and back away to sit opposite her, retrieving the paper and charcoals he had borrowed earlier, and for the first time in years William Forest began to sketch.


	6. Episode 6a

The next morning is bright and the sky fresh, the yellow rays from the low, wintry sun beaming through the windows of the grand house and bouncing off the chandeliers and the rather glum-looking portraits of the Earl's ancestors. It is breakfast time for the gentry of the household, although it is now getting slightly late and Lady Rebecca has only just arrived in the dining room, her face puffy and not quite as attractive as usual, and her hair not as tied up and neat as her normally high standards would only allow.

Jarvis leaps forward, pouring her a cup of tea, while Will serves her with fruit and poached eggs. Under normal circumstances she would have smiled happily at them, possibly chatted a little and causing Jarvis slight embarrassment at her informality, but this time she barely cares to be courteous, almost scalding Will with a sharp glare for shovelling far too much black pudding onto her plate. Clattering her cup into her saucer, Jarvis stands back and overhears her muttering something about Lizzie failing to show to help her tie up her hair, but the other aristocrats seem rather disinterested in her plight and choose to sit gossiping about the latest London scandal until Rebecca pipes up loudly

Rebecca slicing hard into her bacon as if it is the cause of all her trouble: Where is Hugo?

Franny staring at her sister down her podgy nose: Well, my dear, if you had shown yourself earlier then you would have seen him. As it is, he has retired to the morning room before his ride so I am afraid you have missed him.

The room falls silent again, except for the chink of cutlery on china and the loud, chesty cough reverberating from Lord Farquarson, his tea dribbling down his shirt. Rebecca leans over to help him, but he ushers her away, and this seems to put her in an even worse mood. Her eyes are clouded with anger and sadness, and Jarvis can't help but notice that she can only push her eggs around on her plate and hardly bite a single morsel.

Caroline leaning forward and giggling girlishly: Oh Julian and I are going to look at wedding rings today in Bristol, isn't that right darling? And he has promised to buy me a new tiara as a treat!

Julian opens his mouth to speak, a slight look of confusion on his face, but then thinks better of it and merely nods weakly, his parents smiling politely back. Admiral Dalrimple-Sykes has hardly taken his eyes away from Lord Farquarson, a growing redness on his face, while his wife Lady Margaret simply nudges him and stares at him with a 'don't-you-even-think-about-it' look on her face.

Jarvis can't help but smile, knowing only too well the depth of the animosity between the two families – a land feud dating from the time of Henry VIII which had never been resolved, so with neither side conceding they had become sworn enemies and remained so to this day. Not a pleasant word had passed between the two men through the entire breakfast, and it is obvious to Jarvis that the ladies in the room found this somewhat tedious.

Admiral to Julian, who is nervously tapping his leg under the table: Don't you go spending all your money on rings, Julian my boy, you know how quickly your funds deplete. Don't know why you don't get up off your arse and get a proper job like the rest of us, join the Navy and stay there for once like your brothers!

Lady Margaret opening her mouth in shock and squeaking: Please, Ronald!

Lord Farquarson hardly looking up from his plate: Yes, it is rather a shame when there's a RUNT in the family, isn't that right, Ronald?

This is obviously meant as a direct insult to Julian, but Franny can't help but huff and glare at her father, her husband completely oblivious to any upset she may have felt as he smooths his very thin moustache, hiding his very thin lips on his very thin face and making him look a bit like an extremely starved and undernourished walrus. Lord Montgomery - or Monty for short – is now very much a figure of fun in the servants quarters, and every time he so much as moves at the table he causes Will and George to snigger and glance amused at each other. Over the last day or so the sight of him and his wife walking together contained so much comedy value for them that the two footmen would quite often have to leave the room as quickly as possible as to not wet themselves and cause a scene. It is even more funny that Monty is the name of one of the Earl's mutts, and the Earl does not fail every time to get a mention of that fact in somewhere. It is probably true, however, that Monty the terrier has more meat on him than Monty the person.

In the end, the Dalrimple-Sykes' could bear the thick atmosphere no longer and unexpectedly rose from the table, the Admiral marching purposefully out of the room, Will and George holding open the doors, as Lady Dalrimple-Sykes trots off after her husband. The Earl had momentarily stopped sticking in his newspaper articles at the dining table when Hugo had departed, a slight glint in his eye noticed by Jarvis. The butler has very much realised that Lady Rebecca must have had some sort of spat with Adams, who still has failed to show for his duties that morning. It has also been very much brought to his attention over the last few days or so that His Lordship has taken rather a shine to Lady Rebecca – nothing too over-the-top, but more subtle stares over his glue pot.

Knowing his master as well as he does, it isn't hard for Jarvis to work out that since Lord Harry's death the Earl has been a little, well, concerned for the future of his title, and Lady Caroline is hardly the best candidate for carrying it to the next generation at Taplows. Besides, he knows that His Lordship has no desire to give Caroline the little of his money he has left – he needs a son, one that will be shrewd with money and give the Peerage the honour it deserves. Before that, of course, he needs a wife, one young and healthy enough to be able to breed continuously until an heir (and preferably one to spare just in case) is produced. Unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way one looks at it, the engaged Lady Rebecca Farquarson fits the bill perfectly, and Jarvis knows that the Earl is well aware of this fact. And, having such an eye for younger ladies, the butler can't help but be worried for her.

For once, Jarvis noted, the Earl had been unusually quiet over breakfast, his articles carefully stuck in one by one as the police begin to close in on the dastardly Fiffington-Piffles, and his silence had been maintained over his scrambled eggs after Hugo's bold exit, watching him hawk-like until he had left the room. Luckily Rebecca is barely noticing his leering grins as she stares grimly into her teacup. Maybe, Jarvis thinks as he hands the Earl his third newspaper, the Earl is convinced it is Hugo she is angry with, rather than a certain and rather absent under-butler? This may be the case, but by all accounts it isn't a lack of interest in her by Hugo that would concern her.

After the aristocrats finally decide to move and get on with something even less productive than glaring at each other over their toast and marmalade, Jarvis resolves to go and find Mr Adams and heavily reprimand him for being absent. There is a lot of wages to be docked for this one, he murmurs to himself, although he has to feel a little sorry for the poor sod if his relationship with a Lady is as tiresome as Jarvis imagines. Pausing outside Adams' room for a moment, he runs through in his head briefly what to say to him about pulling himself together, getting on with it, not letting a woman ruin his life, etc. Bursting into the room, he is overwhelmed slightly by the stale smell of alcohol, and the mess in the room is even noteworthy for Mr Adams. He steps forward, but glances down on feeling something under his shoe – a tatty book with half its pages roughly torn out.

Snatching it up, Jarvis huffs and tosses it onto the table, his eyes shifting round the room. If only he had decided to pick up and read some of the pages strewn carelessly about the room he may have begun to work out what exactly had gone on the previous night. For a moment he fails to see Adams slumped behind his chair on the floor, his gaze naturally falling on the unmade and ruffled bed. On finding no under-butler he turns to leave but a helpless hand flopped next to an empty whiskey bottle catches his eye and he dashes forward, knocking the chair out of the way, to reveal Adams still propped up where he had fallen, his head lolled to one side and resting awkwardly on the leg of his desk, a smudge of blood down his right cheek and his shirt unbuttoned.

Stepping back Jarvis wonders for a minute what to do, until he moves to haul up Adams, completely fed up with such heavy drinking that it causes him to fall into such a comatose state that he isn't even awake by 10am. Pulling him by the arm, Jarvis swings him round slightly then scoops him up from under his arms, groaning with the weight and half throwing him onto his bed. Not even so much as the flicker of an eye! Typical. Bending down, the butler grabs his feet and drags them onto the bed, the head wound now obvious and looking rather more nasty than Jarvis had first detected. Inspecting it, a complete look of distaste on Jarvis' face, he sighs heavily and decides its best if the doctor has a look at him once he's seen little Jennifer again. Best leave him to sleep it off first, however, and with a last disapproving glance, not even wanting to imagine what had gone on between his subordinate and Lady Rebecca the previous night, he leaves and shuts the door quietly behind him.

Meanwhile upstairs Flora Ryan had finally made her way upstairs to check on Jennifer, Grace had relieved her early that morning, but even so she still felt duty bound to check in every hour or so, just to make sure the little girl wasn't any worse. It was proving a difficult task, on one hand she had her normal housekeeping duties to attend to, then on top of this there was the fact that tomorrow would bring a whole horde of guests descending on them in time for Lady Caroline's wedding, it seemed every relative both the Earl and the Dalrimple-Sykes possessed had been invited, and then on top of all these demands on her time she had to cope with a sick child and a staffing shortage. After all this wedding nonsense was over she was going to take some much needed time off, perhaps visit her old friend Catherine Higgins in York for a day or two, that was of course if Walter didn't mind, who knew what plans he was concocting for them both after the wedding was over!

Smiling softly to herself as she opened the sickroom door, knowing him it would be some over the top romantic gesture, possibly a proposal, the only question remaining unanswered was how would she respond. She knew she still loved him, despite everything, burying to the back of her mind her attraction to Will, that was simply a side effect of all that her and Walter had been through, when things were going well between them she wouldn't even look at another man with interest. No that was nothing, and since the footman seemed to be keeping a respectful distance, she was sure that despite his threats he had finally realised the futility of their relationship. Although deep down she did feel a slight twinge of sadness and even a touch of guilt she knew how it felt to love someone and to realise that the reality of your situation made a relationship practically an impossibility, after all she had been working at Taplows for over five years before she had finally confronted Walter about her feelings for him.

Sighing softly she pushed open the door and stopped suddenly just inside the door, sitting by Jennifer's bedside, a look of concern etched on her beautiful face was Lady Rebecca, she was holding a children's story book and was reading aloud to try and sooth the sick and fretful child; Grace was nowhere to be seen. All of sudden Rebecca stopped reading, realising she was being watched and turned quickly to glare at the intruder. When she spotted Flora her look of annoyance changed quickly to one of almost desperate relief and she dropped her book and dashed across the room flinging her arms around the startled housekeeper, before breaking down and sobbing miserably against Flora's shoulder.

"Shhhusshh!" Flora whispered, holding her friend tightly and rubbing her hands up and down her back in an effort to calm her down.

"Oh Flora, its all gone wrong!" Rebecca began, pulling away slightly so the housekeeper could see her tear stained face. "Franny did this on purpose, bringing Hugo down here, he had no idea he's such a sweetie and he'd never have put me in this position, but that spiteful sister of mine, she has to try and ruin everything! And now Andrew……" She trailed off unable to finish as a fresh wave of sobs overwhelmed her.

Worried at her friend's distress, Flora walked her back over to the bedside chair and after getting her to sit down handed her a handkerchief to try and get her to dry her eyes. "What did he say?" Flora asked.

"He's ended it; he says he never wants to see me again!" Rebecca replied through her tears. "And he lied to me, about the debt, about being faithful; he even has a child a daughter, here at Taplows!" She added looking up at the housekeeper, surprised by her lack of reaction. "You knew?"

"What about? "Flora hedged.

"All of it, why didn't you tell me?" Rebecca asked, unable to believe her new friend would deliberately deceive her as well, was no one honest in this world?

"Yes I knew, I was here when the whole debt issue arose but you mustn't blame him too much for covering that up, it really was a most distressing experience they were going to take him to debtor's prison and there was the whole roof incident, the debt collectors hounding him up there, then Walter and Lizzie pleading with him not to jump, he didn't ask Walter for the money he offered it feely…. I found out about Mrs Stanwick the same time as everyone else, but as she was such an unpleasant trollop it was hardly surprising, she even….." Flora trailed off her voice cracking, unwilling to rehash over Walter and Mrs Stanwick.

"What?" Rebecca asked softly, curious as to find out more about the now infamous Mrs Stanwick.

"Andrew wasn't the only man she threw herself at; she tried it on with Mr Kraus, most of the footmen, even….even Walter, so believe me I know just how you feel!" Flora replied.

"But how could you, unless….?" Rebecca trailed off, her eyes widening in shock as the implication of What Flora was saying hit her. "No, not Mr Jarvis?"

"I was in London on the Earls business, and I returned unexpectedly, I caught him coming out of her room at six in the morning in his nightshirt and then later when he was trying to convince me it was all a misunderstanding I spotted a love bite on his neck." Flora replied softly.

"How did you deal with that?" Rebecca asked the pain of Andrew's betrayal was still too raw for her to contemplate how anyone could ever forgive infidelity.

"Well I stopped yelling and started thinking, and I had to admit that things were partly my own fault, I had gone off to London without consulting him effectively abandoning him, and I really do believe he went to her room by mistake and got into bed with her thinking she was me. As for what happened whilst he was there, well I will never know for sure, but after a while I realised none of us are saints and it would have taken the restraint of one not to respond to someone who was right there, ready and willing, especially when he had no idea I would be returning so soon. I'm not excusing his actions, and I certainly am not going to forget it, but I think after a while I realised I loved him too much not to forgive him for whatever momentary lapse he may have made."

"Perhaps…" Rebecca began, unwilling to label her friend a fool for forgiving Jarvis so easily. "But what about his daughter, abandoning her then trying to get her sacked and generally being an absolute cad to everyone around him, even you my dear friend, surely he can't be defended on these matters?"

"I will admit with regard to his behaviour to myself and Will, most of the time it has been inexcusable, but at others he has had what he has considered good reason, and although he wasn't around for the first sixteen years of her life since Lizzie has been here he has tried to make a concerted effort to be a good father. All be it in a rather convoluted way and much of that has revolved around keeping his daughter away from negative influences, namely William Forest. Rebecca I'm not making excuses for him, much of his behaviour has been loutish, even unforgivable but if he has one redeeming feature its that he obviously loves you with all his heart and soul, he would never intentionally hurt you of that I am sure!"

"Then why now, after all that we've been through just to be together, why does he abandon me just when I need him the most?" Rebecca asked her beautiful eyes wide and pleading.

"Perhaps he thinks you no longer have a need for him, what with Hugo and everything…." Flora started to reply.

"But its not what he thinks; I tried to explain but it is so hard without breaking a confidence, and Andrew just won't believe me when I tell him that it will be a marriage in name only, he thinks Hugo will be incapable of keeping his hands off me and that as his wife I will be obligated to share his bed! But Andrew just doesn't seem to realise, that there are some men who aren't like that…That some men, well Hugo for example just doesn't find me attractive in that way….I don't know how to explain!"

"Ahhhh, you don't have to." Flora cut off the confused and babbling aristocrat, "I also have such a friend."

"You do?" Rebecca asked shocked. "Who?"

For a moment Flora paused before replying, "Felix Kraus."

"Nooooooo!" Rebecca exclaimed her hand covering her mouth in shock.

"Yes and I understand what you must be going through, in a way I also was in your position needing to marry for convenience, although there were other extenuating circumstances."

"What you were going to marry Felix but why? Why would you marry him when you were engaged to Mr Jarvis?" Rebecca asked, genuinely confused by the housekeepers revelation.

"I never told you before but I…I got pregnant, and Walter, well he was being particularly pig headed and awful and Felix was there for me and he proposed to try and save me from disgrace because Walter wasn't going to… Then in the end Walter came around and we got engaged…"

"You're pregnant too?" Rebecca asked excitedly, grasping the housekeeper's hands.

"Too?" Flora asked her eyes widening as she realised what Rebecca had just said.

"Oh you have to give me advice, although I'm not completely certain I am, but I am almost sure….I mean I'm very late, and I had hoped this would happen, it's just I had so wanted to have a child with Andrew, and I talked it over with Hugo and he said that if I wanted children then this was the only way… That he would be delighted to raise it as his own, but I had so wanted Andrew to be involved but now …" Rebecca rambled on as if she hadn't heard Flora, her voice getting higher and higher until she was almost hysterical.

"I lost my child." Flora muttered quietly, her eyes downcast as she felt the familiar stab in her stomach.

Suddenly Rebecca stopped, her own plight forgotten as she stared at her friend in shock and disbelief. "What, when?"

"A month or so before you arrived, there was an accident and…." Flora stopped unable to continued, the memories of her miscarriage came flooding back and she had to choke back her tears. "If it's all the same to you I'd rather not talk about it, it's the main reason why Walter and I split up, I just couldn't face having any more children."

Rebecca didn't reply, she simply nodded her eyes wide with horror, and understanding and pity. "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have...I mean if I had known."

"It's alright please don't….I've started to come to terms with it, I don't need you to feel bad about your pregnancy, I'm really delighted for you…And who knows maybe one day Walter and I…" But suddenly Flora stopped glancing quickly over to where Jennifer lay sleeping, before grabbing hold of Rebecca's hands and physically dragging her from the room.

"Flora what's the matter?" Rebecca gasped, as she followed behind the housekeeper.

"You can't stay here, if you're pregnant, the German measles it could hurt your baby, promise me you'll stay away and you'll let the doctor check you over!" Flora replied when they were safely halfway down the corridor.

"Alright I promise, but you must promise not to breathe a word about this to anyone, not even your Walter!" Rebecca replied sternly.

"Fine, as long as you think seriously about telling Mr Adams the truth, it might change things between you, I doubt very much that he is so angry with you that he would want to miss out on the first sixteen years of this child's life!" Retorted Flora her tone a little harsher than she had intended.

Upset Rebecca snapped back without thinking. "And what about you? Are you going to let Walter miss out on being a father too? Do you really think that is fair?" But then seeing Flora's hurt expression she relented slightly. "I'm sorry Flora, I shouldn't have said that…"

"No you're right, I am setting up a double standard, being selfish…And I must admit I have been thinking about it, having the children here, well I won't deny it hasn't been difficult but somehow it's helped me face some issues. There are no guarantees but maybe?"

"I think it's time you both talked!" Rebecca added softly, laying her hand softly on Flora's arm, before turning and heading back to her room, leaving the housekeeper to stare after her a thoughtful look on her face.

A little while later, and the Doctor has returned to check on little Jennifer, who is still running quite a high fever. Her mother had bustled in briefly, harrumphing in contempt at her daughter as if she had gone out of her way to ruin her visit, while shaking off any affection from her other children. With a cursory glance at Flora and a feigned expression of concern when briefly conversing with the Doctor on Jennifer's health, Franny decided it was best if she stayed away from her until she had begun to recover, it was far more convenient if one of the servants fell ill instead of her. Flora had asked her in desperate hope if there was anything that the little girl particularly liked, any favourite soups or songs she liked to sing, but Lady Francesca simply shrugged at this bizarre notion, saying that she is a simple child how would she have any preferences for anything, she just did as she was told, is seen and not heard.

The young doctor, who also had the unenviable task of treating the Earl's more unsightly and personal ailments when such things occurred, shakes his head after Franny as she sweeps out of the room, her sick daughter turning to watch her leave but without even calling once for her mummy. Patting the little girl on the hand, he stands and turns to the troubled housekeeper, smiling at her and making her feel, just for a moment, as if Jennifer is her own child whom he is treating

Flora glancing over his shoulder at Jennifer as Grace mops her brow: Will she be alright, Dr Evans? I know how deathly measles can be, poor little soul.

Dr Evans packing away his medical equipment in his bag: Oh, I think she'll be over the worst of it soon, I could leech her for all the good that would do, but I think just care and plenty of water should do the trick. If she gets any worse I may have to rethink, but other than that there's not a lot I can do. Measles is a tricky one and no mistake.

So engrossed in the child's welfare, Flora fails to notice Jarvis hovering awkwardly in the doorway, his gaze fixed on her body language, how she moves over to the child and feels her burning cheek with the back of her hand, a permanent look of worry etched on her usually soft features. As the doctor turns to leave, Jarvis steps forward, pulling him aside for a word in his ear

Jarvis briefly making eye contact with Flora, his voice low and serious: Dr Evans, I know you are a very busy man, but could you possibly take a look at Mr Adams, the under-butler, before you leave? He's had a bit of a bump to the head, and although he may have had, shall we say, a glass or two of the strong stuff last night, he still hasn't woken up.

Agreeing without hesitation, the doctor nods politely towards Flora and Grace, before following Jarvis out of the door, but just as he is leaving, Charlotte dashes into the room with more damp towels, almost bumping straight into him in her haste

Dr Evans holding his hands up in surprise and smiling: My, my, Miss Lewis, you are in a hurry! That's what I like to see, keenness, you'd make a good nurse.

Blushing furiously, Charlotte looks down at the towels and giggles quietly and nervously, ushering past him and daring to glance up at him to meet his gaze. Flora and Grace exchange knowing glances as Charlotte bites her lip, and with all the boldness she can muster calls out in her haste:

Charlotte: Will you be back later, Dr Evans?

Dr Evans raising his eyebrows at her in surprise at the usually timid maid's outburst: Indeed I shall, Miss Lewis. In the meantime, the little one needs as much care as you can give her.

Charlotte smiling broadly, swaying her hips from side-to-side slightly: Oh I'm so pleased! That you're coming back I mean, not that Miss Jennifer needs lots of care, I…well….

Cutting herself short, Charlotte's usually pale complexion is now even more flame red than a moment ago, so to save her further embarrassment Dr Evans smiles and bows slightly, trotting off after Jarvis who is waiting for him a little way up the corridor.

Flora To Grace and Charlotte, bundling up a pile of used towels: Well, I'd better go and ask the kitchen to make her some broth, something fairly weak so not to upset her, poor little thing.

Once Flora has exited, Grace smiles mischievously and looks over at Charlotte, who has her head down as she over-busies herself sorting out a fresh bowl of water, obviously hoping Grace won't mention a word of her encounter with the attractive doctor

Grace her voice low but tone light-hearted: So, you've got an eye for the doctor, have you?

Charlotte crossly thumping down the water jug: Oh give over, Grace, don't talk silly! I only meant……!

Grace: Oh, I know what you meant, Charlotte, anyone could see it! Don't worry, really, I mean he's not married I don't think, and you could do well getting wed to a doctor, all that social standing, you may never have to bake another loaf in your life!

Charlotte turning and sighing: Look, I'm not interested in him in that way, I'm not! Grace, don't look at me like that! He'd never look twice at a girl like me anyway, and he may not even be Catholic!

Grace taking the bowl off Charlotte and sprinkling water on Jennifer's bare arms: Well, you'd best get praying for his soul, then hadn't you? And if you're that worried you should pray for your own while you're at it, before he comes back and turns you into a giggling wreck again!

Charlotte harrumphs, turning to concentrate on her towels without another word

Cut to Rebecca's room, where Lizzie is busying herself with Rebecca's wardrobe while the Lady re-applies her make-up from that morning. She had noted in horror on returning to her room that her tears had re-streaked her face, her powder smudged across her cheeks and her eye make-up black and blotchy, so of course she couldn't be seen out like that so it had been essential to make sure she was presentable, even if she no longer had anyone to impress.

Rebecca spent most of her time hardly concentrating on her make-up but her mind elsewhere, desperately trying to think of how she can approach the subject of Lizzie's parentage. She could hardly blame the girl for being her lover's daughter – or rather her ex-lover's daughter, she notes with overbearing sadness, so there is no need to take out their break-up on her. It seems strange, however, that her new maid appears extremely uninterested as to why she may have become so upset, or maybe she considers little Lizzie is just far too polite to ask and knows her place a little too well. Her quietness is beginning to disturb Rebecca a little, her attempts to make light conversation with her apparently falling of deaf ears, and eventually, after carefully applying her lip stick, Rebecca can bare it no longer. Why should she have to put up with a grumpy and sullen maid after what she has been through?

Rebecca fiddling nervously with her perfume, an unusually high pitch to her voice: Elizabeth, there seems to be something bothering you, and I hardly think it appropriate you take it out on my favourite shoes. You've been very distant all morning and it's high time you told me what is wrong, goodness knows what you may do to my hair if I let you loose with the brush!

For the first time that morning, Lizzie moves from the bed and looks her straight in the eye, and Rebecca almost gasps at the amount of upset and confusion on the young maid's face. There is that same look – the one Andrew gave her the previous night, before telling her he never wants to see her again. Rebecca has no idea why she hasn't seen the similarity between them before, the shape of Lizzie's eyes are unmistakable, and the familiar distressed pout is undoubtably identical.

Lizzie hanging her head slightly, her voice cracking: Last night I…..I saw you. You and Mr Adams in his room.

Rebecca A knot of worry tightening her stomach as she tries to smile convincingly: Oh, I was returning a book to him, that's all Elizabeth! I'm sorry, I know I overstepped my mark by going to his quarters, but he was quite insistant on having it.

Lizzie mumbling, knowing she is out of line: I bet he was.

Rebecca gapes at Lizzie at her comment, what had she seen? She had thought her book excuse rather plausible, unless she saw…..unless…..well they did get carried away, didn't they? Until Andrew put a stop to it? But that lasted merely a few minutes, it would have been bad luck for the poor girl to have witnessed it, surely! But that look in her eyes tells Rebecca everything she needs to know without Lizzie having to say another word.

Lizzie her chin wobbling as she desperately holds back tears: I heard you talking, ma'am, you know I'm his daughter. And I saw you together, I saw you kissing, and you're engaged!

Rebecca standing up and clasping Lizzie's shaking hand: Look, my dear, I'm sorry you had to find out that way, but it doesn't matter any more. He has finished our relationship, and I completely understand, he did it for both of us, so I could marry Hugo, but I will always love your father, always. I will never forget him.

Lizzie stares at Lady Farquarson, and for a moment she is drawn in and actually feels a little sorry for her, maybe she does love her father and she is sad to be marrying Hugo, but why oh why didn't he tell her about having a daughter? Was he so ashamed of her that he couldn't bare the thought of doing so, and exactly how long had he been liaising with an aristocrat? Lizzie isn't quite as upset as she thought she would be – well, about her father having a woman at any rate, his love life is rather an area she would do well keeping out of, and she supposes it is better than him going out every weekend to see that Rosie she hears so much about. But she can feel her temper beginning to rise as question after question begins to race through her head but without being able to answer any of them. Why did he keep his own daughter a secret from the woman he may even love? Why does he always have to do things that upset her, why can't he be a real father to her, and pay her at least a little attention? He had been even more distant with her since Rebecca's arrival, and now she knows exactly why, but he had let her down once too often and she is beginning to wonder why she ever bothered to come to Taplows in the first place.

But her thoughts and their awkward silence is suddenly broken by a smirking Franny, who bursts her way into Rebecca's bedroom and orders Lizzie to wait outside with a cursory wave towards the door. Lizzie does as she is told, but hovers outside the closed door, her ear pressed firmly up against the door. Inside the room, Rebecca turns disgusted away from her sister, not the slightest bit interested in anything she has to say, and she is just about to swing round and bellow at her to get out of her room when Franny sniffs out an almost wicked laugh

Franny her voice full of malice: Thought you'd be with him, after what he's been through.

Rebecca standing in front of a bed post, giving distance between them: Don't you bring Hugo into this, I have not set out to hurt him!

Franny raising an eyebrow, a snarl spreading on her lips: Oh no Rebecca dearest, I didn't mean Hugo, I meant your bit of rough from downstairs. Don't tell me you haven't heard, thought you'd be first to know out of all of us, although I have just come from down there, silly Jennifer nearly threw up all over me, so sorry I returned back to her!

Rebecca an urgent look on her face: But Andrew, what's happened to him? What did you do!

Franny folding her arms, loving every minute of her sister's discontent: Oh, is that his Christian name? How funny, it hardly seems worth giving them one. Anyway, I didn't do anything, it was last night apparently. Heart attack the doctor said, big one at that, he's been out cold for hours!

Rebecca staggers backwards slightly, her breathing quickening and her own heart racing, but Franny feeling absolutely no sympathy for her as she moves closer in an intimidating manner, leaning round the bedpost and leering at her sister

Rebecca gulping hard and shakily clasping her hand over her mouth: You're lying, you spiteful cow!

Franny closing in on her and grasping her wrist: Oh I think you'll find I'm not lying, not a bit of it! Not that you're going to find out for yourself, of course, you're to stay away from the servants quarters, I know you went there last night, I followed you!

Outside the door, the muffled voices from inside are just audible to Lizzie. Her knees had gone weak on hearing the terrible news about her father, the blood rapidly draining from her already pale face. Panicking, the anger towards him subsiding momentarily, she picks up her skirts and hurries away down the corridor, almost crashing into Lady Caroline on her way. Not even stopping on Caroline's shrill demand, her heart thumping in her ears, she heads off down the stairs leaving a stunned aristocrat in her wake

Franny grips Rebecca's wrist even harder, causing her to wince in pain, and although her eyes soften Rebecca can see the steely determination hidden in them, her round face tight and her teeth gritted. But Franny's voice suddenly calms as she drops Rebecca's hand, instead reaching up and cupping her face as poor, worried Lady Farquarson backs away, her face full of fear for the man she loves

Franny: My dear, dear Rebecca. How tragic for you to fall in love with such an unworthy suitor, a man nearly old enough to be your father and with a sixteen year old bd daughter of his own!

Rebecca gasping and trying to get away, but Franny just grasps her face even tighter: How did you know! Were you spying on us!

Franny pursing her lips and raising an eyebrow: I saw and heard everything, darling. That poor illegitimate serving girl dashing off in tears, goodness knows what she saw going on but I am quite sure it was highly inappropriate. It doesn't seem that your precious Mr Adams was entirely honest with you until you went prying, does it? And you think he loves you? I've said it before, those people aren't capable of real feelings, they're just as it like rabbits, breeding all over the place, cluttering up our houses, if I had my way I'd cull them, just keep the useful ones!

Rebecca manages to pull away, the tears once again streaming down her face and ruining her newly applied make-up, but the only way she can go is backwards onto the bed, scrambling and tearing in despair at her sheets. It hit her like a lightening bolt, she could see it all, her leaving Andrew, but Franny hovering, waiting and smiling wickedly in delight at what she saw next

Rebecca her mouth dry and tight as she points accusingly: You knew, you saw it, heard him, and you did nothing to help him! NOTHING! You…how could you….my own sister!

Franny laughing as she remembers Adams' desperation: He didn't see me, Rebecca, I made sure of that! I watched through the crack in the door, d'you know he positively went purple? Serves him right for smashing a bottle against the wall first, these people are like animals most of the time. I saw him fall onto his pathetic excuse for a bed, calling out your name, but the poor thing could only roll himself off it again, it was terribly tragic. Then again you always were destined to be tragic, weren't you, dear?

Rebecca could only stare at Franny, nausea rising in her stomach until she is sure she is going to vomit. She always knew that Franny had a bit of an evil streak but to stoop quite so low? And for what end! Why did she always want her to be so unhappy?

Rebecca rapidly losing control of herself: Get out! Just get out, I hate you!

Franny storming towards the door, her voice dripping with sarcasm: What are you going to do, tell Father! Hmm! Oh yes, I can just hear it now, 'daddy, Franny didn't help my servant lover when I made him poorly by finding out about his illegitimate child and the butler paying his debt, can you cut her out of your will?'

Rebecca, now too distraught to speak, throws herself back onto the bed, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably, her whole body shaking in distress, but even this failed to move Franny from her wicked words

Franny lowering her voice and hissing: Oh, stop blubbing, he'll live, I'm sure he'll be back to polishing the silver in no time – well, he'd better be or that'll be a lot of wages docked, how ever would he pay back Jarvis? I've warned you once, and if you go to see him again, well, I won't be responsible for what Hugo does to you, it's about time someone gave you a good hiding!

And with that, Lady Hamilton-Hussey sweeps out of the room, her dowdy skirts swishing, and slams the door hard behind her, leaving Rebecca to cry, heartbroken and helpless, until she can hardly breathe. She knows that she will have to marry Hugo as planned otherwise her suspected pregnancy would end up being a scandal, whether it were considered Hugo's or not. Finally, despair filling her thoughts and her heart, through her exhaustion she drifts off to sleep, hoping above all hopes that her new friend and confidant Flora will be able to help her to see Andrew before it is all too late

Finally Flora Ryan made it back to her office; the events of the day had been nothing short of dramatic. First waking up confused, disorientated and more than a little cold in Jennifer's room, then dashing around making sure all the bedrooms had been aired and the fish order was fresh, then dealing with Rebecca's revelation and now the shocking news about Mr Adams. Sinking gratefully into her chair for the first time that day she turned her attention to her mountain of post, methodically opening each one and making a neat list of all the issues they raised. However just as she was about to open the last, something caught the corner of her eye, standing up slowly she made her way into the alcove off her office, lying on her desk was a single rose and underneath there was a very large, very thin wrapped package. Smiling softly she made a mental note to make the time to thank Walter personally, although when he had found the time to get her a present amongst all that was going on? Her curiosity more than a little piqued, Flora teased at the string, and carefully folded back the crisp brown paper, gasping in shock at what she saw enclosed.

After a few minutes she was able to glance back at the drawing, it was unmistakably her, and it had to have been drawn last night, the question remained was who? It was well drawn that at least she would admit, all be it a little too flattering, but what was the most shocking was the content, not so much what was shown but what it hinted at, it was only a head and shoulders sketch but the way it cut off just at the tops of her breasts, well it made it look as though she were posing nude. Despite all this she had to suppress a small smile, it did make her look rather good, both serene and abandoned at the same time and if she believed it had been drawn by Walter she might have been tempted to thank him but somehow she knew him too well to believe he had managed to hide such a talent from her for all these years! So that worryingly only left her one realistic candidate, who else would want to titillate her so? It had to be William Forest.

In that moment she realised the footman had not simply given up on her, but had instead backed away, preferring a more indirect approach trying to win her affections. Seizing the drawing she walked over to the fire, she knew she should throw it in before Walter saw it and demanded an explanation; to keep it would surely only encourage Will to repeat his inappropriate behaviour. But somehow she was unwilling to release her grip and let the charcoal sketch perish in the all consuming flames, closing her eyes she forced herself to drop the picture in, before opening them with an expression of horror she watched as the bottom slowly caught alight and sparks began to eat there way up the paper. Suddenly she leapt forward and grasping the top of the sheet pulled it out of the fire, quickly stamping out the flames, with tears in her eyes she knelt down and turned the charred paper over, most of her head had managed to escape the flames but anything below her collarbone had either been burnt away or charred black with the thick smoke. Shaking slightly Flora walked towards her desk, sitting down she reached out and unlocked one of her drawers, removing the papers that lay inside and replacing them with the drawing, then swiping at her tears she slowly closed the drawer, locking it securely; removing the key she unclipped it from her clattering chain of keys before carefully locking that away in another drawer. With any luck that should keep it safe for posterity and away from prying eyes, then one day when she was really old it would serve as a wonderful reminder of how beautiful somebody once saw her.

Meanwhile whilst the housekeeper was in her office deep in thought and the butler was dashing about attending to the arriving guests two co-conspirators were in the kitchen cooking up more than just the evening meal. Felix Kraus and his new best friend Emily Corey were in the pastry standing side by side, apparently engrossed in adding the delicate decorations to the tops of the delicious apple and cherry pies that the chef had prepared earlier.

"Are you sure this will work Emily?" Felix asked a slight tinge of concern in his voice, "I mean what if there is a problem this evening, and the Earl demands to see either one of them, I mean with Mr Adams as he is, there will be no senior staff available…"

"Oh Felix you're such a worrier, believe me if there is a problem we can always let them out, you know this makes sense, besides it was your idea remember I said if only we could make them sit down and talk it all through, and you replied the only way that would work was if we locked them both in a room and refused to let them out. Besides it's not like it will be whilst the party is in full swing, we'll wait till its calmed down and most of the guests have retired then you inform Walter they need more brandy upstairs and I'll simultaneously tell Flora, then when they're both down there we barricade the door and leave them till morning."

"And if there is a problem?" Felix asked still a note of trepidation in his voice.

"Then I give you my word I'll let them out! Trust me the results will be worth a little inconvenience, and with everyone else so busy it's not like their absence will be so blindingly obvious! And who knows with any luck, my grandchild might be on his way by morning after all those cellar's can get particularly nippy !... Oh Felix don't look so shocked, I was only joking!" Emily added in response to the chef's fierce blush.

"You know there is nothing I would like more than for them both to be happy, but don't you think another child so soon…?" Felix started but was cut of by Emily's angry glare and sharp retort.

"It is the only thing that will help ease the pain, she's not the only woman in the world who has ever lost a child, and take it from me the only thing you can do is carry right on living! Besides its not like they have all the time in the world, and if Walter is to get his quota, they'd bloody well better hurry up!"

"Quota? You make Flora sound like a brood mare!" Felix retorted angrily, annoyed by Emily's apparent insensitivity. "Surely there are other more important reasons for getting them back together other than Walter's aspirations for fatherhood!"

"Yes, Yes of course there are!" Emily replied placating, waving aside Felix's concerns, "But surely a family can only help!"

Not entirely convinced the chef finished decorating his pie with a sharp huff and stalked off into the kitchen to check up on Mr Simpkins progress. Smiling to herself Emily delicately arranged a sprig of pastry holly on her last pie, Felix was such a romantic he had little grasp on the role of women in society, they had one fundamental purpose and that was to bear children. Walter's first marriage had denied him the chance to be a father, and her the chance of grandchildren she had thought forever, but now he had a second chance and she wasn't going to let the reservations of Flora Ryan get in their way; besides on the day her first child is born Flora would thank them even if at the beginning they had to somewhat strong-arm her into it!

It is now getting rather late, the day having raced away, and pre-wedding gitters begin to descend on the entire house. There had seemed nothing better but to have an elaborate evening soiree to keep all the guests – and the servants –occupied, but by the time it is in full swing, there is notably someone very much absent. Franny, rather naively for her assuming that Rebecca is still sobbing her heart out on her bed, smiles wickedly to herself as she plays cards with Hugo, Julian and Lady Dalrimple-Sykes, while the Admiral tells his elaborate tales of adventures on the high seas to a delighted Lady Caroline and a bored-looking Earl.

Rebecca, meanwhile, is far from sobbing on her bed, she is standing outside Adams' door again, rather more nervous than the last time but nevertheless absolutely desperate to see him. She glances as Flora, who gives her a soft smile and an encouraging nod, so taking a deep breath and shutting her eyes she reaches for the door handle.

Flora had discovered her in her room, being comforted by Hugo, his muscular arms wrapped around her as he rocked her gently on the bed, his chin resting on the top of her head as she buries her face in his chest. For a second, this reminded Flora so much of all those times Felix had been there for her, a stable rock in her life through all the turbulence of the last year, and it almost brought a tear to her eye. Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't be there, that she had been too late and Rebecca had already had the bad news broken to her, and now all she needed was her best friend and fiancé. But something kept her standing in the doorway, unnoticed by either aristocrat, while Hugo soothes Rebecca with words of comfort, telling her everything would be alright in the end, that he wouldn't let Franny hurt her any more and that if she really was pregnant then he will look after both her and the child and she could continue to write to Andrew after their marriage.

This seemed to help Rebecca a little, and she glanced up at Hugo, holding him tight. Flora smiled to herself – they both looked so perfect together, and somehow it was such a shame that he didn't love her in that way, that once they were married she would lead a life without any physical affection if Andrew remained at Taplows after they returned home. She remembered how she felt when she was about to leave with Felix, how sorrowful she was to be leaving Walter, but just knowing that someone who loved her dearly, even if not in the carnal kind of way, would take care of her and her child had been enough to give her some sort of comfort and hope at least.

That didn't mean, of course, that she shouldn't see Andrew for the remainder of her stay at Taplows, so she decided that she would do her very best to help her new friend. Stepping forward tentatively, Flora caught their attention, Rebecca beaming sadly through her tears, delighted to see another caring face.

Flora quietly, a little nervous due to Hugo's presence: I can help you, I can take you to him. The doctor said he will recover, but he's very sick.

Rebecca, quite unexpectedly, leaped from Hugo's arms and threw herself at Flora, flinging her dainty arms around her and squeezing her so tight that Flora was convinced she was going to snap in two. Whimpering, Rebecca kissed Flora on both cheeks, hugging her again

Rebecca: Oh Flora, my dear, dear friend! I knew you could help me, I need to see him, tonight during the party, please! I must, I…..

Hugo gently prising Rebecca away from the startled housekeeper, chuckling softly: My dear, I think Mrs Ryan will be of absolutely no use to you if you suffocate her! Come, sit down.

Hugo was indeed dashing, thought Flora, he had a certain air and charm about him that only the very wealthy seemed to be able to carry off. But like Felix, he didn't flaunt himself or his certain preferences, appearing the very respectable gentlemen with a beautiful, fashionable and loving fiancée on his arm, without a hint of his or indeed his Lady's dark secrets tarnishing them. The three of them talked for nearly an hour, Flora finding Hugo surprisingly easy to pass the time with. Instinctively she felt he would get on famously with a certain friend of her own, but she felt rather unable to encourage a liaison between them for their own sakes – a male servant fraternising with a male aristocrat would surely be such a scandal that it couldn't be covered up for long?

After a long discussion, it was decided that Flora should take Rebecca down to see Adams, going ahead of her every few yards and checking that the coast is clear, and she should stand guard outside the door, then escorting Rebecca back to her room, or the party, whichever seemed appropriate at the time. Hugo was to cover for her, saying she is asleep and not to be disturbed, and making sure that Franny did not decide to slip away and hunt her down.

So, once the aristocrats were all settled for the evening with their card playing, story telling and pianoforte, once again provided by a relatively tone-deaf Lady Caroline, Flora returned to Rebecca's room, telling her that now was the perfect time to see Adams again since he vowed that he never wanted to see her again. After a brief conversation with a rather distant and confused Lizzie about her wardrobe arrangement, she drew the maid into a hug and thanked her for her understanding, although Lizzie wondered what exactly it was she had done to encourage such a thought

Nevertheless she managed a weak smile as Rebecca followed Flora out of the door, leaving her to ponder her own thoughts on her father's situation.

----

Reaching for the door handle, Rebecca turns it tentatively, giving Flora one last worried glance before slipping inside, shutting it carefully and quietly behind her. She stands facing the door for a moment, unsure of what she will see, but with a sigh she turns, her eyes immediately falling on the under-butler, lying comfortably and peacefully in his bed, fast asleep. Moving over to him, she pulls round a chair and places it by the bed, sitting down next to him and for a long minute can only stare at him, cursing herself. Did she do this to him? It's all her fault, how could she not see how sick it was all making him?

Reaching out her hand, she hesitates slightly before grasping his own and curling his fingers around hers with her other hand. She had never seen him this helpless before, his face as white as parchment, and she suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of sorrow and love for him like never before. He doesn't flinch as she strokes his cheek with the back of her hand, tears welling up in her eyes then dropping onto the crisp linen of his sheets with tiny patters. Turning her head to one side, she moves forward and places it on the pillow next to his to be near him, just like all the nights they had spent together cradled in each other's arms. She gently places her hand on his chest, his injured heart beating rhythmically again and his breathing regular if a little shallow.

Whispering 'I'm so sorry, my darling', Rebecca leans up and forward out of her chair and gently kisses his lips, still firmly holding his hand. For a moment he is unresponsive, but she is just content to linger and feel the warmth of his face next to hers, but quite unexpectedly his eyes flicker open and their eyes lock. Smiling gently, Adams raises a weary arm and cups Rebecca's saddened face, wiping away her tears with his thumb

Adams his voice a lot softer than usual: Rebecca, you shouldn't be here! What if you get caught?

But without replying, Rebecca closes her eyes and kisses him firmly, and Adams can't help but run his fingers through her hair and bask in her touch, pulling her towards him as she moves and sits on the bed. But, coming to his senses, Adams gently pulls his lips away so instead their faces are just inches apart, his eyes raking over her beautiful features

Adams laughing gently: Whoa there, Becca, do you want to give me another heart attack?

But the joke doesn't work as well as he'd have liked, and she suddenly looks as if she is about to cry again as she grips the sheets and rests her head on his chest, desperately wanting to protect him

Rebecca voice choked with emotion and tiredness: Oh, Andrew, it is all my fault, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean this to happen, I…..

Adams pushing her face up by her chin to meet her gaze: Rebecca stop, it's not your fault, it must have been on the cards, there's nothing you could have done, please don't blame yourself.

Rebecca: But if I hadn't gone and read your diary, and if I hadn't got engaged, if I hadn't even come here to Taplows!

Adams tutting and kissing her nose, brushing her tear-drenched hair off her cheek: Don't think like that, I'm glad you came here, and as for reading my diary well, I should have told you about Jarvis paying the debt, but I was so ashamed, I didn't want you thinking worse of me, I am already totally unworthy of your love. Mrs Stanwick, well, she was so unimportant compared to you, the love of my life, that I didn't want to mention it as there seemed no point. But Lizzie, yes, I agree, I should have told you. It was unfair on both of you, but I have yet to see her as I've been sleeping.

Rebecca hangs her head, wondering. Is this the right time to tell him? Or should she wait? Maybe waiting would be better all round, but if it is true then he needs to know, needs to understand that there is an even more pressing reason why she should marry Hugo quickly.

Rebecca biting her bottom lip: Andrew, I….there is so much we need to talk about, and Franny well she is being positively beastly. My darling, my love, I have something to tell you.

Adams frowns, but considers nothing can be as bad or as much of a shock as her engagement to Hugo. Whispering 'what is it?' he kisses her knuckles but sees the fear in her eyes.

Rebecca moving closer to him and running her finger across his lips: Andrew, I'm….well I think……I'm……

Suddenly there is a rapid light knocking on the door and Rebecca sits up quickly, turning her attention to the door as it opens ajar.

Rebecca whispering furiously: Flora, what's wrong!

Flora just peering around the door, not knowing what she would see inside: It's the Earl, he's on his way, I've just had word from Walter, he wants to see Andr….Mr Adams about his health!

Scrambling from the bed, all thoughts of her confession pushed to the back of her mind, she turns and kisses Adams again, as he holds her hand, gradually letting it drop as she moves away.

Adams desperation consuming him: Visit me again soon, please! I'll go mad lying here, I know I will!

Nodding furiously, blowing him another kiss, Lady Farquarson sweeps out of the room, Flora dashing ahead and waving at her to follow her away from the direction of the Earl's footsteps and booming voice and towards the soiree, where at least she could find more solace in Hugo.

After escorting Rebecca back to her room Flora made her way back downstairs, however just as she was making her way towards the kitchen to supervise the clearing up from dinner she heard someone calling out for her. Walking in the direction of the voice Flora headed back towards her office, and just as she turned the corner she spotted Emily Corey standing calling for her and glancing around in panic.

"Emily What's the matter?"

"Oh thank goodness I've found you, they need more brandy upstairs…"

"Well Walter would usually deal with that!" Flora replied perplexed.

"Yes but we can't find him and the Earl is taking it out on the poor footmen so couldn't you use your keys and go fetch us a bottle or two?"

"Alright but I'll need your help to carry them!" Flora replied hurrying off to the cellar a relieved Emily hard on her heels.

However when they arrived and Flora went to open the door with her key, she found that it was already unlocked, pushing the door open wider, she glanced back at Emily a puzzled expression on her face.

"Perhaps Walter is already dealing with it, but you'd better go down and check Flora dear, I would go with you but really the cold would play hell for leather with my rheumatism!" Emily spoke up suddenly, rubbing her lower back for emphasis.

Smiling softly Flora turned and slowly made her way down the wooden stairs, calling out for Walter as she went holding a small stuttering candle in front of her to light her way. However as soon as she turned the corner and caught sight of the butler along the stacks she heard the cellar door clang shut and the sound of the key being turned in the lock. Whirling round she cried out for them to stop, that there were still people down here, causing Walter to glance over in her direction and close the distance between them in a few strides.

"Flora, what is it, what's the matter?" Jarvis asked gently grasping her elbow.

"They've locked us in!" Flora exclaimed.

"Who have?" Jarvis replied a confused expression visible on is face in the candlelight.

"I don't know, one minute your mother is telling me to come and get some more brandy, the next the door is locked behind me…."

"Mother!" Jarvis growled. "And Felix telling me to come down here! Why does this start to sound more and more like some sort of conspiracy?"

Angry and annoyed Flora stamped her foot, "How dare they…?" Before turning and brushing off Walter's hand, storming back up the stairs and hammering on the door. "Emily Corey, Felix Kraus you let us out of here this instant!" However no answer came, and try as she might she could not get the handle to budge.

"Why don't we try my key?" Jarvis asked a slight teasing tone in his voice as he had to squeeze next to the housekeeper on the small landing at the top of the stairs, for a moment enjoying the sensation of having her so close. However the smug look was soon wiped off his face when on turning his key in the lock the door still wouldn't budge. "They must have pushed the bolts across!" Jarvis hissed, his annoyance at being so easily outmanoeuvred clear in his voice.

"Well what are we supposed to do? Stay here all night?" Flora asked.

"It doesn't look like we have much of a choice!" Jarvis replied offering Flora his hand to assist her down the rickety staircase.

"Well what do we do now?" Flora retorted her anger starting to ebb away as the miserable prospect of having to spend the night in a damp dark cellar took over. Walter did not answer immediately and so Flora turned to look at him her eyebrow raised and on the verge of repeating her question when she caught sight of the expression on his face. "Oh you can wipe that smirk off your face Walter Corey! If you think I'm going to…well down here of all places…"

"SO it's the setting that's the problem rather than the act itself?..." Jarvis asked cheekily causing Flora to blush bright red, quickly threading his arms firmly around her small waist and pulling her into his arms.

Smiling Flora slid her hands slowly up his chest before locking them behind his neck, "I won't deny I have been thinking about it…." She replied sultrily.

Pleasantly surprised Jarvis leant down intending to capture her lips with his own, but Flora unlocked her hands and laid her fingertips across his mouth stalling him. "Walter there is something important we do need to talk about, I haven't been able to until now and I'm sorry but I had to come to this point by myself…."

"The baby?" Jarvis asked softly, noticing the tears that sprung immediately to Flora's eyes.

"That and other things, us for example, the future, our future I mean…" Flora trailed off determined to finally get this off her chest.

"I'm listening." Jarvis replied softly, "To whatever you want to say…"

"Thank you!" Flora cut him off, smiling bravely through her tears and then taking a deep breath she finally spoke. "I'm afraid!"

"What of? Please God, not me?" Jarvis replied, his eyes wide with fear and panic.

"No, although there are times you can be quite intimidating… What I meant was I'm afraid of being hurt again; I don't think I would survive loosing another child."

"But what happened this time was an accident, it wasn't because there was anything wrong with you or the baby and the chances of anything like that happening again…"

"Let me finish please!" Flora cut him off. "It's not just that, I'm afraid of getting my hopes up, of opening myself up to be hurt again, not only of loosing a baby but of even trying for one, what if I can't? What if the miscarriage has robbed us of even the chance? I don't know if I'm strong enough to cope with that either!"

"I can be strong enough for us both if I have to…Loosing our child was agony, and neither of us will ever be the same again, but we can't give up living Flora…. I've seen you with Jennifer I can see part of you is crying out for a child of your own, surely even the remotest chance for that is worth the risk?"

"I want to believe it, I really do, and I want to be able to lie safe in your arms but I'm just so …"

"Terrified?... I'm afraid as well Flora, I'm afraid that next time I might loose you as well. I think I could cope with anything except that, as long as we have each other we can survive it!"

"I wish I could believe that Walter…" Flora replied the tears now flowing freely down her icy cheeks, as she buried her face against the butler's shoulder.

Shocked and shaken Jarvis wrapped his arms tightly round her pulling into an almost suffocating embrace, himself blinking back tears that sprung unbidden to his eyes. "Believe me, believe in us, we can do this!" He whispered softly.

But Flora did not respond save to tighten her grip on the butler, slowly he lowered them to the floor and leaning back against the wall pulled her on to his lap, rocking her slowly in his arms until her sobs lessened and he realised she had fallen fast asleep. Sighing softly to himself Jarvis leant forward and nuzzled softly into Flora's hair, placing a row of delicate kisses along her hairline before himself falling asleep, safe in Flora's embrace

The next morning Jarvis stirred slowly, stretching slightly he tried to move his shoulder to shift the pins and needles and get the blood flowing, opening his eyes he glanced down at the sleeping Flora and smiled. Tightening his hold on the housekeeper he leant down and nuzzled into her hair, breathing in her unique perfume, before kissing her softly on the lips. Moaning slightly as Jarvis pulled away, Flora opened her eyes sleepily, a soft smile spreading across her face.

"So beautiful!" Jarvis whispered, reaching up and brushing stray wisps of hair away from her face, as Flora's eyes softened, their gazes locked.

Suddenly Flora leapt forward, seizing the lapels of the Butler's jacket she pulled him firmly against her capturing his lips with her own and kissing him passionately. After a few minutes she broke their kiss, breathless but ecstatic she grinned at him saucily before pushing his jacket off his shoulders and tearing it from his back. A stunned butler simply sat there, amazed at her sudden change of heart, he was unable to believe what was happening before his very own eyes. By the time he had come around from his stupor the housekeeper had removed not only his jacket but his waistcoat and was now unbuttoning his shirt, but in her haste she was struggling with the buttons.

Growling slightly Jarvis seized her hands and wrapping his arms round her small waist pulling her against him before pushing her down against the cellar floor, sitting up slightly he seized the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off over his head, before rolling back on top of her and kissing her passionately. Determined to show her appreciation Flora ran her hands up and down his back, raking her nails down his vest and teasingly un-tucking it from his trousers, giggling loudly when Jarvis retaliated by nipping at her collar-bone, whilst he quickly unbuttoned her dress.

However just as Jarvis was about to drag her dress completely off her shoulders, a rather familiar voice pierced the air.

"Oh Felix will you stop whittling!" Emily snapped as she made her way down the stairs.

Urgently the housekeeper and butler jumped to their feet, Walter trying to fasten Flora's dress and her scooping up his shirt trying to force it back over his head, however it was too late and as Emily and Felix turned the corner they stopped dead, shocked gasps escaping from their startled lips. Embarrassed the butler and housekeeper just froze, Walter determined not to meet his mother's rather pointed gaze.

"Well Felix we appear to be interrupting something, perhaps we'd better leave?" Emily retorted having finally found her voice, unable to keep the tone of amusement from her voice.

"Yes…well…yes!" Felix replied, gasping for the words as he turned and beet red followed Emily back up the stairs.

For a moment neither Flora nor Jarvis spoke, then the housekeeper burst out laughing, slumping to the floor in her hysterics. After a few minutes when they had subsided to the odd titter she glanced up at Walter who was still standing stock still, an expression of horror on his face. Concerned Flora immediately stopped giggling and made her way over to him, sliding her hands soothingly across his chest before nuzzling against his neck.

"Well we've been sprung, why don't we go upstairs? We have a little unfinished business…." She added teasing one of his ears with her teeth, running her hands down his torso and beyond, before drawing her hand back suddenly in surprise. "Walter? What's the matter? Is it me? Did I do something wrong?"

Slowly Jarvis came out of his stupor, shaking his head slightly he continued to gaze into space, a glazed look of disbelief and horror on his face. "I'm sorry…I just…I can't! Good God Flora, My Mother was here, another few minutes and she would have seen something she hasn't since I was eight years old!"

However despite the butler's pitiful tone and horrified expression Flora couldn't contain the splutter of mirth that escaped her lips, earning her a hurt and confused look from Walter who seemed to Flora's eyes to pout like the small boy he was describing. Smiling softly at him, Flora slipped her hand into his and began to drag him towards the stairs. "Don't worry about it Walter, somehow I think that was what she had in mind when she locked us down here! And as for the rest, well I'll let you make it up to me this evening!" She added giggling slightly as they made their way up the stairs hand in hand.

A few hours later and the house was in the state of pandemonium that could only be associated with a major Taplow's event. Mrs Ryan was in the ballroom ordering her maids to clean harder and quicker, whilst keeping a close eye on the layout of the banquet tables in the main dining room. Mr Jarvis was outside giving his footmen and porters last minute instructions with regard to ferrying guests and their extra duties for the day's special event. Whereas upstairs most of the ladies maids were dashing about, catering to lady Caroline's every whim. First her bath was too cold, then it was too hot, then they had put the wrong scented salts in! Then everything had been thrown into disarray when the rather batty Lady Mary had gate crashed the room dancing around and giggling manically, commenting to anyone who would listen about how much she was looking forward to marrying her Algie later that afternoon. No matter what they did nothing was good enough, and so all available help had been drafted in to help cosset the daughter of the household through her special day. Even other people's lady's maids had been conscripted.

Somewhat nervous Lizzie paced around in the background eager to avoid both the sharp tongue of Lady Caroline and the every watchful and critical eye of Mrs Diggins. Suddenly her attention was diverted from the pair of dress shoes she was trying to polish up, when a half dressed Lady Caroline suddenly screeched loudly and seizing the hairbrush out of her maid's hand flung it across the room, only missing the rather large target of Mrs Diggins by a matter of inches. Amazingly the normally highly strung maid did not bat an eyelid, instead simply turning round and retrieving the hairbrush from where it now lay, wedged precariously between the antique Louis XIVth mirror and the treasured portrait of Lady Lydia.

However the fact that she had almost destroyed one if not both of her most treasured items did not deter Lady Caroline from continuing with her tantrum. Stamping her foot angrily till the room seemed to tremble, she screeched once more in fury, as her already nervous maid fumbled with her corset. "Oh for God's sake, you stupid girl can you do nothing right? Must I do everything myself?" Caroline bellowed ignoring the tearful sobs of her now trembling maid.

Fortunately for the maid in question the situation was interrupted by a sharp tap on the door. Sighing loudly Lizzie followed Mrs Diggins unspoken directive and went to answer it, somewhat surprised she opened the door wide allowing Lady Dalrimple-Sykes and Lady Rebecca to enter, deliberately ignoring Rebecca's conspiratorial smile and staring stonily into space over her shoulder.

"Beeca, Margaret, thank goodness you're hear, it's a nightmare, everything been going wrong, why can't these damn servants do anything right? They don't seem to have any idea just how important this day is to me, if it doesn't go perfectly I shall never forgive daddy! If he hadn't gone a given most of his money to that monstrous cad Freddy, then we could have afforded some decent staff!" She huffed, before allowing both Rebecca and Lady Margaret to comfort her.

"Don't worry Caroline, the day can't fail to go swimmingly, what with that special good luck charm I brought you, remember the rhyme. 'Something old, something new, something borrowed something blue.' After all you have your new wedding dress, oh and that beautiful antique diamond necklace of your mothers, and I gave you my little gift so that covers borrowed and blue, with all that how can everything fail to go perfectly?"

"What little gift?" Lady Margaret asked.

"Oh I'll show you!" Caroline gushed, waving off Mrs Diggins to go and retrieve the said item from her dressing room, where all her wedding finery was laid out.

However after a few minutes of waiting for the maid to return Lady Caroline became increasingly impatient and short tempered, stamping her foot in annoyance she jumped to her feet ignoring the protest of her maid who had only just started once more on her hair she stalked through into the dressing room, Margaret and Rebecca following in her wake.

"Mrs Diggins what on earth are you doing?" Lady Caroline screeched on entering the room and finding the rotund lady's maid on her hands and knees searching under the chaise lounge.

"WELL?" Caroline repeated her tone icy.

"It's gone My'lady!" Mrs Diggins replied her eyes wide with fear.

"What do mean it's gone? It can't have gone, it was here earlier, I remember seeing it!"

"But it's not here now, perhaps…." Mrs Diggins began.

"Perhaps what? It grew wings and flew away?"

"No, perhaps it got moved or something…"

"Stolen is more likely, is this one of your lot's idea of a joke? 'Oh wouldn't it be funny to play a trick on the little rich girl, ruin her wedding day, that'd serve her right!' Isn't that what has happened Mrs Diggins, well I don't find it particularly funny and you'll all be laughing on the other side of your faces when I tell daddy to dock the cost of it from each of your wages!" Caroline snapped, her face getting redder and redder as her temper got the better of her and her voice escalated from a harsh whisper to practically a bellow.

For once in her life Mrs Diggins was unable to find her voice, she kept opening her mouth but no words came out, making her appear to all present like an oversized old trout.

"Well woman! What do you have to say for yourself?" Asked Lady Margaret.

"Perhaps…Perhaps it got picked up with something else, I mean in all the panic earlier with Lady Mary…"

"Well I suggest for your own security you find it, there is no way I'm going down the aisle without it!" Caroline added turning and leaving the distressed maid quaking on the floor.

Meanwhile downstairs an equally bizarre scene was about to take place, Mr Jarvis had finally managed to snatch five minutes peace in his office, sitting down in his fireside easy chair with his cup of tea and his paper. However it wasn't long before the exhausted butler fell fast asleep, the hassles of the last few weeks combined with spending the night in a damp dark cellar had finally caught up with him. Suddenly he was jolted awake by the sensation of someone massaging his shoulders, gently loosening the knots of tension that had built up there. Smiling to himself he kept his eyes closed leaning back into their touch, allowing himself to recall the events of first thing that morning. Chuckling to quietly himself over just how persistent his lover was becoming; especially when she moved from massaging his shoulders to running her fingers through his hair and teasingly stroking his ears.

"All right woman, I give in, you win! Although how we're going to find time I will never know, what with the wedding and everything?" He exclaimed reaching blindly behind him and seizing her by the wrists pulling her round on to his lap.

However then something happened he wasn't expecting, just as he was opening his eyes, intent on passionately capturing Flora's lips with his own, he suddenly caught sight of who was actually sitting on his lap. Desperately he tried to push her away, but it was too late and Jarvis found himself on the receiving end of a very sloppy, wet kiss from one very old, and extremely demented aristocrat. Grimacing he finally manage to grasp her shoulders and prise her off him, a surprisingly difficult feat considering the age and supposed frailty of the Lady in question.

"Lady Mary, please! You shouldn't be here!" Jarvis exclaimed, unable to keep his abject horror from either his tone or expression.

Lady Mary simply smiled and stroked his face lovingly. "Oh My dear Algie, there's no need to be so formal, in mean we are already man and wife literally so I don't think this silly superstition about seeing the bride before the wedding applies to us darling, after all we've only the ceremony left."

"What!" Jarvis spluttered, getting to his feet attempting to dislodge the aristocrat, to no avail as before he could stop her she had flung her arms around the butler's neck. "Lady Mary, please go back to your room!"

"Oh Algie!" She added coyly. "I'd thought you'd never ask!" Seizing the butler's hand and practically dragging him towards the door.

Stunned Jarvis was unable to react immediately, however as soon as he realised her intentions where far from honourable, he seized hold of the door jam and refused to move.

"Algie, dearest what's wrong?" Lady Mary began tearfully. "Don't you want me anymore, is that it? I'm old and boring to you now, been there done that, as it were?"

"Madam please, I am not your husband!" Jarvis began patiently

"No, but you will be this afternoon…" Lady Mary began giggling.

"No I won't!" Jarvis replied. "We are not getting married, I am not your Algie, I'm your son's Butler this silly fantasy of yours has gone on long enough!" He added, his voice getting more and more high pitched as he spoke, unable to contain his anger and annoyance.

"What you're refusing to Marry Me!" Lady Mary replied, her eyes widening in panic.

Relieved that at least that had gotten through to the barmy old dear, Jarvis simply nodded his agreement. However he had not expected what came next, instead of turning and leaving in a huff, Lady Mary's burst into tears, her tiny frame wracked with sobs. Suddenly unsure how to react Jarvis resorted to guiding her into his chair and patting her shoulder soothingly.

"Don't you touch me!" Lady Mary snapped at him though her tears. "I hate you Algernon Sturges-Bourne. How dare you do this to me, I'll be ruined. All my family are here, even my spiteful cousin Mavis, oh she'll love this, jilted at the alter and pregnant to boot, no one will ever marry me now, I'll be a disgrace an outcast!" She added, suddenly getting to her feet and storming towards the door, before pausing and much to Jarvis's distress lifting her skirt and rummaging around under her petticoats before removing a something blue and throwing it at him.

"There!" She exclaimed as it hit him plum in the chest. "I was going to wear that for luck down the aisle but it doesn't look like I'll need it now!" And with that she turned and left leaving a confused Jarvis staring after her, a some what warm and stretched blue garter clutched in his hand.

Unfortunately, Lady Rebecca's calming words to Lady Caroline that everything would go swimmingly were very much in doubt as the morning wears on. At least the problem isn't something the bride-to-be could blame on the servants for once, but it doesn't stop her wailing loudly and storming around her room in circles as her Lady's maid tries desperately to tie small cream beads in her hair. Rebecca screws up her dainty nose and gazes out of the window.

Rebecca rolling her eyes, flopping backwards onto the bed and sighing: Oh, Carrie, it's only a bit of rain, I'm sure it will pass. One has to expect these kind of eventualities at this time of year.

Caroline clenching her fists and looking less than ladylike: But, BECCA, I don't think you realise! The marquee will be ruined, I will get mud on my dress, everything will be simply beastly, and I will have the worst day of my life! Get off Annie, get off!

Caroline shakes off her maid and flounces over to the window, staring out as the grey clouds gather and the rain pelts the frames.

But by all (later) accounts, the service itself went remarkably smoothly considering. Well, considering the obvious lack of anything possibly linked to affection or even anything resembling even a basic fondness between the 'happy couple'. The vicar had coughed uncomfortably at one point - actually, just at the moment Julian had to say those two difficult words 'I do', the sorry-looking aristocrat shuffling around awkwardly and silently as Caroline grew redder and redder until she kicked him hard in the shin, taking him by surprise and causing him to squeak out 'I DO!'

The frostiness inside the church was considerably greater than the rather nippy wintery weather outside, but even still the sorry footmen, decked in their finest and holding up arches of flowers, stood dithering in the cold at the door of the chapel for what felt like all eternity. Their only solace was to keep themselves amused by sniggering about poor Lord Julian's misfortune in marrying such an ogress

George tugging at his livery, his arm beginning to ache from holding his flowers: Wonder if Lord Julian will be sleeping on his own tonight?

Fred with a naughty grin: Bet she's a real goer in the bedroom, the little fox!

Will laughing and nudging George: She's probably one of those aggressive types, you know how angry she gets, she'd probably take it all out on the poor bloke, break every bone in his body by jumping up and down on top of him!

Joe speaking without thinking it through first: Oh, a bit like old Rosie, into the tying you to the bed kinda stuff, likes a bit of control. Not that I know. Come on, fellas, don't look at me like that, I've HEARD she's like that, I mean I...

Will feigning sympathy, sarcasm dripping in his voice: Don't worry mate, your secret is safe with us, really it is. See? George agrees with me. Rosie can be hard to resist, especially with her new cheaper rates!

Joe is just about to retort and deny all knowledge when the church doors flew open and Caroline stormed out, her presumably recently acquired husband trotting behind her meekly as everyone piled out behind them, chatting and gafawing loudly while the bells rang out joyfully. Almost marching through the archway, Lady Caroline hardly looked impressed with the flowers or appreciative of the footmen, but she was stopped rather abruptly by a weedy little man clutching a notepad and pencil approaching her

Caroline folding her arms, petals from her bouquet flying about as Julian came up behind her: Who on earth are you! I don't remember inviting you, and how scruffy you are! Don't you realise you're interrupting THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE! Eh!

Man chuckling and tipping his hat: Please do excuse me, but my name's Ernie Boswell and I'm from the Tappleton Telegraph - I'm doing a feature on village society weddings, and yours is at the top of my list!

Caroline's aggressive body language and expression suddenly softened, and she smiled broadly for the first time that day, grabbing a startled Julian by his scrawny arm and dragging him round next to her. Snuggling against his arm, the new Lady Dalrimple-Sykes stares up lovingly at her husband and starts wittering to the journalist, who immediately begins to take notes

Caroline her voice so sweet yet insincere: Oh, Julian and I have always been the best of friends, we are so much in love isn't that right dear? No don't speak, let me finish! We are so happy and can't wait to get started on a family, I know my duty and that makes me so deliriously happy, we're having a wedding portrait done, I can't wait...

Will quietly to George as they shake their heads in disbelief at her hypocrisy: Blah, blah, blah. You watch her today, they'll be 'living separate lives' by this evening!

The start of the reception had felt more like a wake than a wedding, until the wine started flowing that is, and the beautifully presented feast had arrived on the tables to raptuous applause and much laughter. Soon, to Jarvis' delight, everyone was tucking in as the chatter got under way, and even the most pious of aristocrats seemed to be relaxing and enjoying each others company.

All except Julian and his new bride, that is. Not a word passed between them on the top table, unless you count the disapproving grunt and killer stare the new Lady Dalrimple-Sykes gave her new husband when he pinched her fork by accident.

Towards the end of the feast, the Earl could quite obviously bear it no longer and jumped up out of his seat, bursting to read the day's papers. Lady Francesca muttered quite sarcastically and with a sour smile to Lady Margaret that poor old Sturges-Bourne was quite possibly going the same way as his old notably absent mother, they would never catch him, he was far too clever, but this comment was only returned with a disapproving sniff and a quite significant 'hm!' from Lady Margaret. Meanwhile at the top table, Julian's feeble attempts to stroke Caroline's hand, then stroke her thigh, was greeted with such an angry glare that the ferocity of her silent temper shook him to the core and he looked away and down at his summer pudding. It was at this moment, quite ironically but unbeknown to him, that Lord Dalrimple-Sykes marched up to them and kissed his daughter-in-law on the cheek, forcing her into a bitter smile before he turned his attention to his disheartened son

Dalrimple-Sykes rocking backwards on his heels and gafawing: So, you're half way to my inheritance then boy, well done!

This was greeted by a cursory nod from Julian but a confused pout from his wife

Dalrimple-Sykes: All I need is the patter of tiny feet - strong male feet, of course - and it's all yours my boy!

Caroline her breath catching in her throat, voice extremely squeaky: Tiny feet, Geoffrey? I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for that.

Dalrimple-Sykes leaning in slightly and winking: Well I won't last forever you know, Julian knows the rules!

Julian gulped. His desert dribbled down his shirt and his spoon clattered noisily into his bowl, unable to hold it for shaking. Slowly Caroline rose out of her chair, her mouth hanging open as she stared with incomprehension at her husband, but he made no attempt at eye contact, Lord Dalrimple-Sykes' eyebrows vanishing halfway up his forehead in surprise

Caroline her teeth gritted so tightly hardly a word was audible: Julian, what rules, my sweet?

Julian a hot flush spreading over his lean face: Er, well...my darling...er...

Dalrimple-Sykes tutting loudly and folding his arms: Oh for God's sake boy, he's trying to say that you have to have a son before I die or you won't inherit a penny. You didn't think I'd give him my fortune without knowing it was just the tiniest bit secure! I'm not about to let him spend it on all his fancy rubbish, art and suchlike, it needs a future!

But by now Caroline had stopped listening. George and Will exchanged amused glances from behind her as she suddenly started to cough, then splutter, then shake and sob uncontrollably. Like a rippling wave, silence descended across the room as everyone turned and stared at the noise, Julian still cowering in his chair and Lord Dalrimple-Sykes backing away from the hysterical woman who was covering her face with her hands and screeching horribly

Caroline: What, I have to give you a...a...thing! No money before we have...before we do...we'll have to...no! Please no!

Suddenly the thigh touching all made sense to her, the brute! How could he presume that marriage would lead to carnal behaviour, and not to tell her! Surely it couldn't get any worse! All eyes suddenly swivel to the main door as it flies open, the first time the Earl had opened a door for himself since about the 1820s, a breathless Jarvis hurrying in after him hardly able to keep up. Pausing for a moment, the Earl smiles at the confused faces, his daughter's expression contorted in fury. After his moment of suspense, the Earl hurriedly pulls out a newspaper from behind his back and holds it above his head, his face lit up in triumph.

Earl shaking the paper furiously and laughing: They've only gone and bloody caught the bd! And all my money is safe!

Although a sudden loud thud from the top table caused distracted heads to turn back, it appeared Lady Caroline had disappeared. It was only when Julian hurriedly leapt from his chair and called out for smelling salts that reality dawned, and Lady Rebecca dashed over to her friend as everyone gasped and began to chatter in a low whisper. It didn't take long for her to come round, a group of superficially concerned aristocrats leaning over her while Jarvis stood behind them, not knowing what to do for the first time since Lady Mary's adventures up the statue. After a certain amount of ranting at Rebecca about how could this possibly happen to her, why hadn't daddy read his wretched papers before the wedding and how she doesn't intent to let Julian go anywhere near her, let alone have his wicked way, Caroline composed herself and sat back down next to her husband, but the look of revulsion never leaving her expression.

But, to the relief of Jarvis and the rest of the staff the rest of the afternoon went rather well, apart from the steely looks and the quiet, petty sniping. The Earl, considerably buoyed by his good news, felt a sudden rush of generosity and ordered Jarvis to bring out the finest brandy from the cellar in celebration, and soon the joviality of the occasion spilled onto the ballroom floor as the orchestra began to up the tempo and the whirling began.

A little while into the evening, and Frank was bored. Very bored indeed. Currently surplus to Lord Julian's requirements, the handsome valet had no interest in anything his fellow servants might have had to say, so had decided not to hang around the servants quarters, and for a brief moment he had considered paying Adams a visit with a deck of cards but then that didn't excite him much either. As he gazed from outside the ballroom, his expression blank, Frank considered having an extremely early night with a good book, but just as he turned to leave someone caught his arm. He spun round and stared in surprise at the dumpy aristocrat before him, who was gripping his arm so tightly he was sure she was cutting off his circulation. As she dragged him down the corridor without a word, except for a small wink, he immediately started to panic, had he ever looked at her twice? Surely she couldn't be thinking what he dreaded she was thinking! Halting him forcefully in a corner, away from prying eyes, she pulled him down by his jacket so her lips were only inches away from his ear, her hot breath tickling the back of his neck. Frank was just about to say that really, Lady Hamilton-Hussey, he didn't feel about her in that kind of way when she whispered something quite strange and unexpected.

Franny relaxing her grip but her voice stern and harsh: I have a special assignment for you, Mr Keneally, if you are willing to accept. Which I hope you are. I wouldn't want you to let me down.

Frank raising his eyebrows in curiosity: Special assignment, M'Lady? Doing what, may I ask?

Franny her sudden physical closeness to Frank exciting her a little more than it should: I won't beat about the bush over this - I want you to do a spot of spying for me. Do you find my sister attractive?

Frank for once a little stunned and lost for words: Well, er...

Franny frowning, her tone demanding and dangerous: DO YOU!

Frank: I'm not quite sure what you want me to answer here, but yes I do. Very. All the men do around here.

Franny stepping away from him a little and glancing around: Well that's good, because I want you to charm her, befriend her, take her into your confidence and find out everything you can.

Frank smiling slyly, the thought of talking closely with Lady Rebecca piquing his interest: About anything in particular?

Franny licking her lips, her eyes locked on Frank's: Oh yes, certainly. Mr Adams. He and my sister are, well, shall I say intimately involved in the most disgusting manner.

Frank for the first time in his life feeling a small pang of loyalty and duty: Mr Adams? Oh, I'm not sure, it would be disloyal to a good fellow servant...

Frank stopped in mid-sentence as Franny sucked her cheeks in and produced a wad of notes from inside her skirts. She waved them under Frank's nose for a moment before flicking them between her fingers almost provocatively

Franny biting her lip, her voice turning sultry and husky: Are you still sure you don't want to help?

Frank growling slightly, all sense of duty gone at the sight of cold, hard cash: Well, maybe I could be convinced, Lady Hamilton-Hussey. What exactly is it you want me to do?

Franny moving further against the wall as a maid hurries past, lost in her own thoughts: I'll give you half now and half later. I want to know everything about her foul relationship with Adams, find out as much as possible and report back to me regularly.

Frank fishing for compliments, his sour smile fixed on his face: And what makes you think that she would tell me anything at all? Why not ask one of the girls?

Franny screwing up her chubby face in disgust and hatred: Oh, they're pathetic, they love Rebecca, always doing her bidding, laughing and joking with her. You're a good-looking man, Mr Keneally, and anyway she likes a good bit of servant rough, I need you to do everything in your power to gain her trust, and her affection.

Frank not really being able to believe his ears at Franny's cruel request: Anything? At all? Are there no limits which I should stop at?

Franny snorting and stuffing £20 into his palm: No, Frank my boy. No limits, do anything you feel is necessary. Seduce her, get her into bed if needs be.

Frank's mouth fell open slightly - get her into bed! Rebecca's own upright, pious sister is paying him, a mere servant, to sleep with her, a undoubtedly beautiful creature, for information? The valet blinks in shock, Franny creasing another £10 awkwardly into his waistcoat pocket and patting it gently

Frank after a moment of stunned silence: And what will you do with information on Mr Adams? Or aren't I to know that? What about Lord Hugo?

Franny leaning towards him again, slightly threatening and intimidating: You presume correctly, it's not your job to ask questions of me. I'll pay you, and pay you well, but mess up and I'll drag you down. And once your job is done, then that's it, drop her, get out of her life.

Frank couldn't help but feel that there is a lot more that he isn't being told, an awful lot more, what if she wanted to catch him and Rebecca in the act, hard proof that she can't keep her hands off the wrong kind of person? Franny's hatred towards Adams and the raging jealousy she obviously felt towards her sister worried Frank a little, but he had to agree that if anyone could charm Rebecca into telling all her dark secrets, then he certainly could. Franny smiled soullessly at him before walking briskly away back to the ballroom, and he slowly trotted after her to catch a glimpse of his new project spinning and laughing on the dance floor. His eyes locked onto her, raking over her and undressing her, his mind imagining what it would be like with her body entwined with his. He didn't need a girl like Grace when he could have a real, sophisticated woman, with the full consent of her sister. How did Andrew manage to win her over? Surely she couldn't see anything in him. He convinced himself that there was no way she could find him attractive, or be in love with him, and she can't be short of admirers and men who would willingly do her bidding. Maybe Lady Francesca had got it all wrong? Well, that was exactly what he was employed to find out, and by George he was going to.

Finally most of the guests had drifted off to their rooms, sighing contentedly to himself Jarvis silently congratulated himself on a job well done, before giving Frederick Matkin a nod of recognition, letting the lad realise he was now in charge. Glancing back over his shoulder he caught sight of the 'happy couple', now that in itself was a joke, so far this evening Lady Caroline had paid more attention to Monty the dog than she had her new husband. After the compulsory first dance with Julian she had danced all the others with anyone else available rather than her somewhat clumsy husband. Shaking his head at the tragic comedy he had witnessed this afternoon, he smiled at the thought that at least tonight somewhere at Taplows there would be at least one loving couple together again, and he had more than an inside inkling they would not be among the nobility.

Pulling out his pocket watch he glanced quickly at the time, he didn't have long to put all his preparations in place, and as he was certain this was a night they would both remember for the rest of their lives he was determined to make it as special as possible. Not that it had been easy, but he had been slowly putting the pieces in place for days, albeit with some much needed help from friends and family. Striding quickly down the corridor he made his way upstairs and along the long gallery, thinking to himself how fortunate it was the Hammilton Hussey's had insisted on being moved from their original room because it was too small; it meant that he and Flora would have this section of the house all to themselves. Quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being watched Jarvis slipped the key out of his pocket and turning it in the lock darted quickly into the room.

A few minutes later a very smug looking butler made his way downstairs, bypassing the servants hall where by now most of the servants were enjoying themselves, drinking the extra beer his lordship had provided for them to toast his daughters wedding and settling down to tuck into their late night supper, Jarvis headed straight to the housekeeper's office where he knew Flora would be waiting impatiently for him. Knocking slightly on her door before opening it, he watched as she turned and spotted him standing there, her whole face lighting up with joy as she saw him decked out in all his finery.

"It's about time you got here Walter Corey!" Flora reprimanded him, her voice low and teasing as she closed the space between them, "I was starting to worry you'd gotten a better offer, and went off chasing the wearer of a certain Blue Garter!" She added unable to keep the giggles from her voice.

"Oh so you've heard about that have you?" Jarvis asked slipping his hands round her small waist and pulling her firmly into his embrace.

"Oh I think you'll find that when it comes to you, I end up hearing every thing sooner or later!" Flora replied, closing the remaining space between them and rubbing her nose softly against his, before kissing him tenderly. "Well shall we…?" She trailed off, nodding towards the door, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Hmmmmmmmmmm, well I suppose I should be getting to bed after all it has been an awfully long day and I am rather tired…." Jarvis began teasingly but had to stop when he saw her face fall and a pout beginning to form. "Oh alright then, but you have to go along with what I have planned, no cheating?"

"So you have something planned do you Walter Corey?" Flora began running her hand across his waistcoat, tickling him slightly.

"Yes I do!" Walter replied, seizing her wandering hands and dragging her towards the doors and up into the main house, stopping carefully around each corner to check for a guest returning to their rooms, or a wandering Lady Mary.

Finally they reached their destination and Walter opened the door wide ushering her in, but Flora froze in the doorway her eyes fixed on the beautiful scene in front of her. The room was lit only by candlelight and the light cast by the blazing fire, a cold supper had already been laid out on a small table but what really took her breath away were the flowers, they were everywhere, arrangements sat on every available surface. Stepping into the room, Flora whirled around and flung her arms around the butler kissing him with unrestrained passion, desperate to show just how much she loved him. Somehow Walter managed to draw back, it was so tempting just to let this continue, but he had a plan and he'd spent so much time devising it he was loathed to throw it all out the window, besides he had far greater hopes for this evening than just the obvious.

With strength of will he didn't know he possessed Jarvis managed to unwrap Flora's arms from around his neck, breaking the kiss and coming up for air. "Flora we have all night!" He began, but was cut off when the housekeeper was able to free her hands and pull him in for another kiss, her hands running through his hair as she dragged him across the room to the bed,

"Flora!" He managed to gasp. "Love what's the rush?"

"Please Walter!" She whispered, nuzzling into his neck. "Can't we just…" She added pulling away from him and sitting down on the bed, patting the space next to her suggestively.

Stubbornly Jarvis stood resolutely in front of her, his arms crossed. "Well that's just typical I spend all this time planning this to be perfect and all you want to do is jump into bed, is that all I am to you some sort of plaything?" He replied a pout worthy of Grace on his lips.

Unable to prevent the small chuckle that escaped her lips, Flora's smile widened when Walter started to sulk and stalked over to the fireplace, pouring himself a glass of purloined champagne.

"Walter, stop sulking, come to bed!" Flora called out to him teasingly, her amusement building as she saw the butler shake his head and turn his back on her.

"So there's nothing I can do to convince you, is that right?" She added standing and unbuttoning her dress as she slowly, made her away across the room, pushing it off her shoulders and stepping out of it before loosening her corset and pushing the straps of her slip off her shoulders. Finally reaching the butler she seized his shoulder and pushed him down into the fireside chair, before sitting herself down on his lap.

A stunned Jarvis simply sat there, mesmerised by the vision in front of him, finally he snapped out of his stupor when Flora leant down to kiss him and managed to turn his head at the last minute so she ended up kissing his cheek instead.

"Oh no you don't, you're not going to get round me that way!" He muttered, unable to keep the teasing tone from his voice completely as the housekeeper began to nibble on his ear.

"Really?" Flora whispered in his ear, "Well how about this, will this work?" She asked nuzzling down his neck, playing with the edge of his neck tie, before torturously slowly removing it.

"No!" Jarvis replied.

"Hmmmmmmm, well this should!" She added as she unbuttoned his waistcoat and then his shirt, skimming her fingers across his vest covered torso before playfully nipping at his collarbone and the shoulders.

"Flora you might as well give up! There is nothing you can say or do that could make me cave in! It is now a matter of principle you have to learn you can't always have your own way!" Jarvis added his voice starting to squeak when the determined housekeeper un-tucked his vest from his trousers and ran her hands up inside it.

"Now that sounds dangerously like a challenge Walter?" Flora commented. "Are you saying there is nothing I could say or do to make you lose that iron clad control of yours?"

"Well, urgh…" Jarvis began, no longer so sure in his assertions, especially when Flora raked her nails softly down his chest, and began to unbuckle his belt, but on seeing the smug look of victory on her face his damaged male pride asserted itself.

"Yes that's exactly what I'm saying, Flora you really have to learn who is the man this relationship, and we will only go to bed when I say so and not before! Good God woman, the entire fabric of society would be undermined if women were allowed to demand sexual gratification from their husbands; it is for the woman to perform her wifely duties and not the other way around!" He added, desperately trying to ignore and not respond automatically to the ministrations of her wandering hands.

"Who said I was demanding anything?" Flora whispered huskily, blowing softly in his ear.

"Well if you're not you have a damn funny way of showing it! Now are you going to sit and behave whilst we have supper or am I going to have to tie you up and force feed you?" Jarvis asked, trying to keep his mind on anything other than what she was doing now; what she needed was a darn good spanking, misbehaving like this and ruining his carefully planned evening.

"Tying Me Up? Hmmm Walter I would never have guessed it!" Flora giggled as she managed to tug his vest off over his head.

"That's it!" Walter exclaimed and seized her firmly by the wrists, standing up slowly he dislodged her from his lap and began to march her over to the opposite chair, however halfway there his progress was somewhat impeded when his unbuttoned trousers fell in a pool around his ankles, leaving him standing in only his long johns, shoes and socks. Somewhat distracted by this sudden turn of events he loosened his grip on Flora for an instant, just long enough for her to free her wrists and pounce. Pushing the unbalanced butler off of his feet was easy, luckily for Jarvis he had a soft enough landing on the thick fireside rug, but he hardly had time for this to register as the next moment he had been pulled into a passionate embrace..

Finally admitting defeat he rolled Flora over on to her back, ignoring her initial protests in favour of quickly stripping her of her remaining clothing. Once she realised he had caved in, Flora was then willing to lie there passively gaining her pleasure from watching the look of concentration and delight on Walter's face as he set about his task with gusto. However the housekeeper had one more surprise in store, just as he was peeling her petticoats off her one by one Jarvis was stunned to catch sight of a flash of blue; intrigued he slipped his fingers under the waistband of the remaining undergarments and pulled them all off at once.

"How the hell…?" He began when he saw the same blue garter from earlier adorning Flora's own rather shapelier thigh.

"Hmm, that's my little secret!" She muttered pulling back on top of her, and pushing aside Walter's hands when he went to remove her stockings.

"You want them left on?" He asked, amused by her little eccentricities.

"Leave the garter!" She giggled, a mischievous look in her eye, "after all it was a gift from your heartbroken fiancé!"

Growling slightly in annoyance mostly in amusement, Walter leant and captured her lips with his own, finally whispering "As you wish milady!" As he moved his mouth down her neck and across her breasts, luxuriating in the feel of her beneath his hands.

However he still hadn't counted on the level of Flora's impatience, annoyed by his apparently laid back attitude she hooked her toes round the edge of his long johns and began to tease them down, all the time deliberately writhing against him trying to provoke a more spontaneous reaction.

"Hold your horses, you wanton…" Jarvis began snapping at her in his confusion and frustration, but his tirade was suddenly cut short when Flora managed to slide a hand between them, before drawing it back suddenly when what she was expecting did not rise to the occasion.

"I'm sorry!" He managed to gasp out after a few minutes. "I don't understand, I just can't…!"

"Shush Walter it's fine, believe me love I understand…" Flora replied soothingly, kissing his forehead and brushing his sweat stained fringe away from his face.

"No it's not alright!" He retorted, pushing aside her arms and rolling off her, instead gazing angrily up at the ceiling; he was such an idiot after all this planning, and waiting he had to go and blow it. No matter what Flora said to try and placate him, he'd still let her down, what was wrong with him he was a grown man he should be able to perform his duties.

"Walter, what's wrong please talk to me?" Flora asked her concern growing when instead of answering her Walter got to his feet and seized his trousers, dragging them on roughly and stormed over to the table pouring himself another glass of champagne, downing it in one swig.

Suddenly feeling confused and vulnerable Flora seized her chemise and pulled it back over her head, getting to her feet she hesitated for a moment before walking over to Walter and wrapping her arms around him from behind, laying her head against his bare back, and kissing him softly between the shoulder blades.

Shrugging off Flora's embrace Walter threw himself down into the fireside easy chair, a frown creasing his handsome features. "It's all your own fault, if you had simply done as you were told, sat down and had a nice supper, a glass of champagne by the fire and then we had gone to bed none of this would have happened. But no you had to have your own way, and now the whole night is ruined, why do you do this to me? When I'm around you I'm never the one in control, I find myself under pressure and doing the most insane things; I hate the person you turn me into sometimes!" Walter added his voice low and full of emotion.

"Me!" Flora exclaimed. "How dare you? Walter it doesn't matter to me about earlier, what was important was simply being together, but this need to blame someone else for your…!"

"My What…Problem?" He asked snapping before she could finish, his whisper building slowly to a bellow. "Perhaps it's not me, perhaps it's the lack of inspiration…damnit Flora stop looking at me like that, like I've failed in my duty, these things happen from time to time, if you'd ever lived in the real world then perhaps you'd know that! You'd realise the way things worked between men and women, besides it's not like you've never failed in your duty!"

"My duty?" Flora replied aghast.

"Yes your duty, to stay here and be my wife, bear and raise my family and stop these foolish independent notions of yours, why the next thing you'll be saying is you're off to gallivant around the world with your Mrs Harrison, and leaving me to fend for myself for months on end!" Jarvis retorted hotly, immediately wishing he could bite back the words when he saw the confused look on Flora's face, she didn't know about Charlotte's trip that was in the letter he had burnt

"What are you talking about?" Flora demanded, convinced by the fact that Walter wouldn't meet her eye that he was hiding something from her.

"It's nothing… I was ranting, it doesn't matter!" Walter replied cagily staring into the fire, for the first time since the engagement party experiencing the real grip of fear.

"It doesn't sound like nothing!" Flora replied, his behaviour convincing her more each moment that he was hiding something important. "Damnit Walter if this concerns my friend then I think I have a right to know! I've been wondering why I haven't heard from her, she's normally so punctual with her letters, why just a few days ago I wrote to her asking if everything was alright as I'd missed hearing from her this month!"

However Jarvis didn't answer, instead in sank deeper into his chair and refused point blank to meet her gaze.

"Walter Corey, on your honour have you heard news about my friend?" Flora hissed venomously walking over to his chair and standing between him and the fire, and staring him straight in the eye she had her answer, for a moment he flinched, a flicker of guilt and regret across his eyes before anger and frustration returned.

"A letter?" She asked rhetorically, "I want to see it, no I demand to see it!"

"Well you can't!" Jarvis replied a touch of ice in his voice that Flora had never heard, as he got to his feet an almost smug expression on his face. "I burnt it!"

"What?" Flora exclaimed aghast, "Why? Why would you do something like that?"

"I had no choice!" Jarvis replied defensively moving away from her and pacing round the room. "She wanted to take you away, and that I would not, no I could not allow! You belong with me not gallivanting around Europe, your time is too valuable; who knows by the time you had gotten back it may have been too late for us to have had some sort of normal family, and god knows what new fangled ideas and unnatural independent notions travelling may have filled your head with!"

"So you took away my chance to decide for myself, how dare you?" Flora retorted.

"I was doing you a favour, she only invited you for her own selfish reasons, and there was no way after loosing the baby you would have been strong enough to shoulder the burden of someone so sick, it was wrong of her to ask you!"

"She's ill and yet you still chose to keep this from me?" Flora replied aghast, suddenly panicking that somewhere out there her oldest friend might be sick and or dying and thinking that she cared nothing, not even enough to reply to her letter.

"What could you do? Nothing that's what, you'd been through enough, we'd both been through enough, don't you think this decision has tortured me? I had to make a choice, between our best interests and that of someone who in reality doesn't have much time left anyway. Yes you could have soothed her last few months, but what about the irreparable damage it would have done to you, to us? Dear god Flora this wasn't easy and yes you may hate me now but in time you understand why I did it, besides it's too late!"

"Too late, when was this letter sent?" Flora asked, unable to keep the emotion from her voice.

"A week or so ago…But frankly I fail to see the relevance, you're not going anywhere, you're going to stay here with me, I know you're angry now but I also know that you love me and nothing is going to stand in the way of our being together, nothing!" Jarvis added, a steely look in his eyes as he stormed over to her seizing her roughly by the shoulders and leaning down to kiss her.

"Don't you touch me!" Flora screamed at him, clawing her way free, her shock finally giving way to fear and panic.

"Where else can you go, who else can you turn to Flora?" Jarvis asked, his tone pleading yet decisive. "I'll leave Taplows, I can't stay here now, after all this…." She replied her voice trailing off as uncertainty took over.

"Where would you go? Hmmmmmm, home, like they can afford to manage without your wages, to see Charlotte, your friend has probably sailed already, where else can you go, who else do you have who can look after you except me? It's about time you faced the real world Flora, the only person now you are worth anything to is me."

"Yes well you have a funny way of showing it…dear god you can't even perform your duty, you're pathetic, you disgust me…" Flora retaliated snatching at her clothes and fastening them haphazardly, backing towards the door.

"Like you know anything, you only know what I've taught you!" Walter retaliated. "If you had lived at all then you would realise how common that sort of thing can be, besides I've been under enormous stress lately." Then as he spotted the now dressed Flora heading for the door, he called out after her. "That's it run away as usual, where do you think you're going, hmmmmmm?"

Flora whirled round to face him her face drenched with tears. "I don't know, but you never know Walter I might take up your advice and go live a little!" And with that she turned and opening the door stormed down the stairs and into the night.

Cut to Adams' room, where he is sitting up in bed and laughing, tears streaming down his face as Rebecca re-enacts the days events with enthusiasm. She pouts in her best Caroline expression, hands on her hips and stamping her foot wildly

Rebecca in mock disgust: Oh Daddy, must Grandmama converse with the journalist, get her away, GET HER AWAY! And why hasn't 'Good-day' magazine arrived to do a feature? Daddy I hate today, it is positively rotten!

Adams wiping his eyes, his tone a little naughty: Oh Becca it must have been awful for you, I would much rather you had been here to keep me warm under the sheets.

Rebecca tapping him playfully: Stop it, you naughty thing! I haven't got to the best bit yet, including when poor old Sturges-Borne thought he'd try his luck with a quick squeeze of my posterior!

Adams raises his eyebrows in amusement. The Earl is hardly competition but yet he quite likes the thought, in a rather perverse way, that other men find her attractive enough to make a play for her, but him secretly knowing all the time that she is his and his alone.

Outside the door, someone is intruding on their conversation. Francesca had predicted correctly. Ear pressed up against the door, a watchful eye fixed down the corridor, he smiles slyly to himself as he muses the task in hand, and how exactly he is going to get himself most firmly into a certain Lady's bed. Of course he will tell Lady Hamilton-Hussey that it was unfortunately required to assist him in his research, surely her bedroom habits would be considered vital information? Listening more closely, Frank hears Adams laugh again and Rebecca's voice high and shrill, something about how beastly it is of Julian to think he could carry out his lascivious thoughts in such a manner that could cause her nine months of discomfort. But then the room falls silent, leaving the smug valet a little confused, until he hears Rebecca say 'no, Andrew, we mustn't, you're sick', and Adams reply so quietly he could just be heard: 'oh yes we must, my darling, otherwise I really will go mad lying here thinking of your sensational body and yet being unable to do a damn thing with it.' Silence descends for another moment and Frank strains to hear once again, but in the end he is rewarded by the soft sound of kissing, then a rustle of either sheets or petticoats, or both, followed by a low female breathless moan. Frank shifts slightly, his lips parting and his eyes lighting up as the sounds of coital bliss become more intense and excited from beyond the door. One day soon, he vows, those gasps and smutty giggles would all be because of him. Smiling and nodding his head in satisfaction he continues to listen mainly for his own gratification, only dashing to hide when a couple of chatting maids head towards him, lost in their own conversation.

Unfortunately for him, however, they stopped a little way down the corridor, laughing and joking with each other and obviously gossiping about the day's events. Frowning and cursing, Frank moves further back into the shadows, willing them to get lost or he is sure he is going to leap out and kill them. But they continue their conversation and Frank can feel his stress levels rising rapidly. Leaning round the corner slightly, he stares hard at Adams' door as if somehow it would tell him what is going on behind it, but he knows that Rebecca wouldn't come out while the maids are still there so at least he was sure that part of his plan might work.

No more than ten minutes later, Adams and his aristocratic lover are lying in each other's arms in his narrow single bed, Rebecca running her fingertips up and down his chest and sighing in contentment.

Rebecca staring up at him and whispering tenderly: Andrew, there's something I need to tell you.

Adams his hands wandering over her curves: Well, it can't be worse than finding out you're engaged, surely?

Rebecca draws in a short breath of air and rolls on top of him, looking him in the eye, the worry etched onto her face. Adams doesn't ask her what is wrong, wanting her to tell him in her own good time. Instead he brushes her red locks from her face and over her smooth, slightly freckled shoulders, and kisses her nose lightly

Rebecca her voice timid and slightly shaky: Andrew, I'm late.

Adams sniffing out a laugh and nuzzling her: Aye, you're right, you'd better go, they'll be missing you and Lady Caroline might be causing yet another scene you need to report back to me on!

Rebecca slightly exasperated, patting his chest with her palms: No, no, Andrew I mean – I mean, I'm late. My….my monthly cycle, well it hasn't cycled round as it should!

Adams his eyes widening in alarm, nervousness entering his voice: Oh, Rebecca, I think you should talk to Flora about that sort of thing, I don't really understand women's issues, I mean…..

Rebecca shaking her head madly, her expression pained: ANDREW! Don't you understand! I think I might be expecting! With child! In the family way! PREGNANT!

Adam gasps, automatically raising his head off his pillow in surprise and smacks his forehead on Rebecca's, causing her to fly back slightly in pain

Adams fumbling, his chest a little sore from so much exhersion and surprise: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean, are you hurt! And in your condition, I'm so, so sorry my darling!

Rebecca rubbing her head and wincing as she sits up, pulling his covers around her: Yes I am hurt, is this how you treat a pregnant woman!

Suddenly the reality of the situation hits them like a thunderbolt and they both stare open-mouthed at each other. Adams smiles softly, reaching up and tracing her face with his fingers, then down her neck and shoulders, pulling the cover back gently so he can feel her warmth with his hand. His eyes wander down to her stomach and carefully he places his palm on her abdomen in amazement at the thought of becoming a father again. Now, all of a sudden, she is even more beautiful and glowing than ever before, however possible that is to him.

Adams sitting up and pulling her in for a hug, his head resting on her chest: Are you sure? Completely positive?

Rebecca wrapping her arms around his neck: I'm not positive no, but I will be in a few days when nothing happens. I've always been on time before. Always. And really it wouldn't be all that surprising now would it?

Adams: Marry me.

Rebecca tears beginning to fill her eyes: I would love to, I would do anything to be with you, but you know I can't.

Adams releasing his hold on her and kissing her delicately on the lips: Look I'll leave here, we can go back up to Scotland! I'll….I'll do something else, I mean I'm good at writing, and I've a cracking head for figures, I'll learn a new trade, I'll write, like that Dickens fella, I can do that, I can write like him, I've written some short stories I can show you, I even got an article published in the Tappleton Telegraph a few months ago on Scottish culture, I can……

Rebecca placing a finger on his lips, her face soft and almost pitiful: Hush, Andrew. Stop. I know you mean well but I can't, I have to marry Hugo, you, must understand!

Adams folding his arms and leaning back, staring at the ceiling: I understand that you don't have any faith in me, that you think I can't provide for you and my unborn child!

Rebecca shaking her head and kneeling up, pulling his head back down so their eyes lock: That's not what I mean at all, I know you wouldn't let me starve, of course I do, and that you would look after me, but how can I just walk away from everything I've ever known?

Adams gulping hard, his mind raging in frustration at the social curse dividing them: I thought you hated those people, wanted to get away from that hateful sister of yours, but obviously I was wrong!

Rebecca placing her forehead on his and cupping his jaw: It's not as simple as that, please Andrew! It's everything, my lifestyle, and Hugo, I just couldn't walk away, he's too good a man for me to destroy his reputation like that. Why don't you come back up with us? To Highlands? You'll be able to work there again and we can be together.

Adams laughing sourly: Yes, but we won't be together, will we, eh? I'll be your live-in lover while Hugo brings up my child, I don't know, if I can't marry you then what's the point?

Rebecca, heartbroken and exhausted, moves away from him and sits on the end of the bed before beginning to slowly dress herself in silence. Attempting to lace herself back into her corset, Rebecca tugs behing her back with little success until Adams slowly moves from the bed, still feeling rather wobbly, and walks up behind her. Without a word, he moves her hands away and sets to work, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder out of the way. He desperately wants to just rip it off her again, not restrain her beautiful body inside its clutches, but he holds back and continues, only allowing himself a small squeeze of her waist as compensation.

Adams: It's not as if I've never done this before, in fact I must be more of a pro at it than you are!

Rebecca laughs sadly through her tears, but then Adams pauses and gasps a little as his arm twinges slightly. Spinning around, Rebecca in her concern scalds him for too much physical exercise too soon and lowers him back into bed, pulling the covers up around him and kissing him tenderly

Adams voice wracked with emotion: I just don't want to loose you.

For once Rebecca has no idea what to say, no words she can think of could possibly comfort him or change the situation so all she can manage is a soft smile and 'I love you' as she hurriedly buttons up her dress.

Outside, and Frank is furious. Those bloody maids have only just gone and he curses quietly as he tip-toes up to the door to listen. He had managed to miss all the fun and now all they are talking about is what Kraus may bring Adams for his supper, although he does hear Rebecca say that they should spend as much time as possible with each other before her and Hugo return home.

Now for the next bit of his plan. He dashes back behind his corner after he hears her bid Andrew goodnight, and that she will return to him soon. Rebecca opens the door cautiously, glancing in both directions, and once she has established clear exit she dashes out. Frank sees his chance, and boldly marches from around the corner, whistling brightly, his hands in his pockets. Rebecca turns, startled, and stares at the young valet for a moment, who stops in his tracks and raises his eyebrows in mock surprise

Frank his tone inquisative: My Lady, are you lost?

He moves slowly towards her, as if she were a frightened rabbit he is trying to catch without causing destress. Smiling as warmly as he can, Frank glances at Adams' door then back at Rebecca, prompting her a little

Rebecca shifting uneasily: No, I mean, well maybe a little, shouldn't you be with Lord Julian, Mr...?

Frank beaming: Keneally, M'Lady, Frank Keneally. Didn't I just see you hurrying away from Mr Adams' quarters?

Rebecca, slightly taken aback by his forthright questioning, stumbles over her words, beginning to flush with embarrassment. Frank steps a little closer as she looks him up and down. Yes he certainly is very agreeable, she muses momentarily, but she is far more concerned with getting away from him than anything else

Rebecca pouting in annoyance: I think that is none of your concern, Mr Keneally! Now if you will excuse me!

Rebecca turns, her skirts flying, and hurries off down the corridor, until Frank calls out, amusement in his voice

Frank: You're going the wrong way, Lady Rebecca!

Rebecca halts in her tracks, and turns to face him, another of Frank's best smiles creeping across his features and causing her to purse her lips even more. How aroused her sexy expression makes him feel he doubts she will ever know.

Frank almost taunting her: You'll never get out that way, well not to where I am sure you would prefer to be, anyway!

Without a word Rebecca in her bashfulness quickly goes to pass him, but as she moves swiftly next to him he whispers 'your secret is safe.' Lady Farquarson stops and stares at him, biting her bottom lip

Frank leaning in and muttering: I can act as go-between if you like, M'Lady. Andrew is a friend of mine and I anyway I owe nothing to anyone else in this sorry place, no-one to tell secrets like this to.

Rebecca her eyes narrowing in distrust: Well, I may take you up on your kind offer, Mr Keneally.

Frank: Oh, of course I understand you need to get to know me a bit better first, and I you, if you will permit me. I would very much like to help you and Andrew if I can as I can imagine it could be quite difficult, unless this was the first time you had been to see him of course.

Slightly suspicious, Rebecca can't help but feel that Frank may have known abouther relationship with Andrew before now. He seems so sure of the situation, and of himself, but then again his offer to help was to her rather thoughtful so maybe she is being a little hasty in her assumptions. Frank can't help but notice her hair is a little ruffled, and that there is a slight rash on her neck and across the top of her chest. Whether this was due to her activities in the bedroom or through her embarrassment he isn't sure, but it does serve to make her more alluring to him. Suddenly he sees that the top clasp on her dress at the back is undone, and Rebecca is all too aware that he is staring at her in all together rather too familiar a way

Frank his voice soft but still professional: My Lady, it appears that you are a little undone. As I am a valet, please allow me before you return upstairs, unless you would rather i fetch your maid.

Instinctively Rebecca reaches around her back, beginning to flush even more hotly than before

Rebecca laughing awkwardly and turning her back to him: Oh silly Elizabeth, she must have missed the top clasp. How beastly, I hope I haven't been going about like that all evening!

Frank a sly smile fixing on his face: Oh, I'm sure you haven't, M'Lady. I'm sure you haven't.

Taking his time to fasten her clasp, he lightly sniffs her hair without her realising and stares longingly at her slender, porcelain neck. 'Accidently' he brushes against the skin at the baseline of the dress by her shoulder blades and causes it to prickle slightly. Rebecca pulls away at this unnecessary and rather intrusive touch, clearing her throat and thanking him quickly for his assistance. Bidding him goodnight, Rebecca dashes away, in the right direction this time, leaving Frank to thump the wall in annoyance. Damn, had he just gone and blown it, he thinks, by touching her too soon? His inner voice is telling him to slow down, Frank my boy, keep it cool, you KNOW you can do this. Give it time, use a good dose of the old Keneally charm, and she'll melt like butter, tell you everything about Andrew and their affair, maybe even demonstrate her technique. You'll have that nice bit of posh in the end, that smooth neck, that ravishing body, don't you worry. Just don't blow it again or you'll scare her off!

Little does Frank know that it had shaken Rebecca to the core, the touch of someone new, someone much nearer her own age. It had caused a ripple of excitement through her body, but as she reaches the party she vows never to let it happen again. She can't help feel that there is something of the night about that Frank Keneally, and she would have to take advice on him as soon as possible, and she knows just the wise friend to ask.

Oh, how jealous she sometimes feels of Flora, a woman who despite her lack of wealth has everything she could want in a man but she also gets to keep him too. Her love for Walter despite everything and her loyalty to him is admirable in Rebecca's eyes, so her advice and steadfastness is to her invaluable. Flora would never feel like she had just done at another's caress, she would be disgusted with her if she told her, she is sure. Yes, she will definitely have to speak to her, Flora will know exactly what she should do about him.

A furious Flora Ryan dashed through the corridors, her eyes blinded with tears, how could he do this to her? After everything that had happened, hadn't she suffered enough at his hands? What made it worse was they way he had done it, slinking round in the shadows, unknown to her blocking off all her avenues of escape, manipulating her so that in the end she had no other choice but to give in to him, but now she had found out the truth, he didn't love! He couldn't love and treat her the way he did! Now it all became clear to her, he had never wanted to cherish and protect her, he had just wanted to control her, the whole marriage and children charade had just been another way to chain her to him. He had never put her needs first, in their relationship he had always been guided by his lower instincts, lust and power, and to think she had almost fallen for it, had almost walked like a willing lamb to the slaughter. But to think he was a man capable of thwarting a dying wish of an old woman just to satisfy his own desires, that made her sick to her stomach, how could she have ever willingly let him touch her? Suddenly the feelings of nausea were very real and Flora made a quick dash for the side door, the need from some fresh air away from the contaminated stench of Taplows.

Meanwhile sitting in the footmen's room, George and Will were sitting chatting and playing cards.

"A Full house beat that mate!" Will sniggered, reaching across the table to seize his winnings.

Frustrated at his run of bad luck, and Will's seemingly never ending winning streak, George flung his cards down on the table. "Did you sell your soul or something mate? Cause I'm jiggered if I can work out how you keep winning…Maybe we should have pop into town and test your luck in the Cock & Bull, make some serious money instead of you snitching all your friends' wages?" George suggested jokingly.

"You know mate that may not be a bad idea!" Will replied, walking over to the closet and pulling out his civvies jacket.

"Will mate I was only joking! I mean what if we get caught?"

"Everyone's busy and mister smarmy he's so perfect Jarvis will be otherwise occupied all night" Will added in a sarcastic tone, which barely covered the expression of pain in his eyes.

"Mate we all thought you were over that one?" George replied concern for his friend evident on his face, "you knew it was impossible… What you need is a visit to ole Rosie, that'd put everything in proportion for you!" He added trying to cheer Will up.

"Yeah well, you know what they say, lucky at cards unlucky at love; and in the love stakes I am more than unlucky I'm doomed, so that should mean I'm on for the winning streak of my life!" Will replied practically dragging George out the door.

However just as they were passing through the stable yard, they heard the dulcet tones of one Felix Kraus, and so quickly opened the door to one of the stalls, cowering behind it until the Chef had disappeared back into the house. It was here that Will first heard her, the soft crying could be heard along the row of stalls, and daringly he snuck a glance over the top. Right at the end amongst the hay bales he caught a glimpse of her, her head in her hands, her body wracked with sobs.

Turning to George he whispered, "Actually mate you're right, best to not push our luck, besides I have reason to believe my luck may be about to change."

"Will, I'm warning you don't do something you may regret!" George muttered back to his friend; knowing exactly what he was referring to, but knowing deep down he was going to be unable to stop him.

"I'm only going to take your advice mate!" Will replied, pushing George firmly out into the courtyard, "After all you did say what I needed was a quick roll in the hay!" And with that he closed the door, bolting it shut.

Taking a deep breath Will walked silently down to the end, and pausing for a moment to consider what he was doing, realising that despite his posturing to George he had no intention of pushing her into anything, all he wanted was some recognition. Sighing softly he stopped about a foot away, before kneeling down quietly and laying a hand gently on her shoulder. Flora immediately whirled round; terrified that Walter had found her, relief flooding her expression when she realised that it wasn't him, it was only Will.

"What's..?" Will began, but he was cut off when the housekeeper flung her arms round him, sobbing hard against his chest. "Shush, it's alright, it's alright I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you!" Will muttered, meaning every single word as he cradled the woman he loved in his arms, brushing her tear drenched hair from her flushed face. "Love hush, it'll be alright, I won't let him hurt you again I promise!" He added as her sobs slowly lessened, leaning down to place a row of kisses along her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair and perfume and pulling her tighter into his safe embrace.

"What did he do?... Did he force you?... Tell me please!" Will asked, and when she didn't answer he gently seized her chin and stared down into her sapphire eyes, a look of such pain and desperation on his face, that it touched Flora deeply.

"No he didn't, he betrayed me, he lied to me! All this time he's been lying to me, I've been a prisoner in a gilt cage and I've not even realised it until now!" Flora replied, her voice breaking with emotion. "And the worse part is I still am! I don't seem to be able to break the hold he has on me, he has me trapped and I have no hope, no hope of escape!" She added burying her head into Will's chest.

Shocked and shaken by her declaration Will pulled her tightly against him; brushing her hair soothingly and leaning down to softly kiss the tears from her face. At the first touch of his lips Flora went suddenly rigid, what he had meant as a gesture of comfort had sparked something inside her, something removed from the pain of betrayal and she clung to that small spark unwilling to let it extinguish, afraid that without it she would drown in her own grief. Turning her head softly she captured his lips with her own, drawing him to her with the same need and intensity as a castaway flounders desperately towards land.

- - -

As the first shaft of sunlight filtered through into the stables Flora slowly came to her senses, her whole body felt both battered and bruised yet more alive than in months. Gently she tried to move, but found out suddenly how restricted her movements were. Will was still laying on top of her a stable rug thrown casually over the pair of them, his whole weight pressing down on her body, and even in his slumber she could not convince the footman to move; he seemed determined to maintain his position of domination. Suddenly all the events of last night came flooding back to her, the dinner with Walter, the wine, their passionate kiss then the argument and the pain of his betrayal; then she had come out to the stable and Will had found her and they had…. Blushing furiously as she remembered her own wanton behaviour, she shook her head slightly in disbelief, what had she been thinking? Sleeping with Will, she must have been temporarily insane? No in fact she just hadn't thought at all but had been reacting purely on instinct. But even if she had this excuse, it wouldn't work with Will, he'd been pursuing her for far too long for him to treat this as a one off, no he would want more, more than she was prepared to give him.

But before she could decide how to deal with all that she had to get up and dressed and back to her room. That left only one option she would have to wake him, she only hoped he was still too exhausted to insist on discussing their situation immediately. Stroking his hair softly Flora whispered his name into his ear, wincing once more when he began to stir in his sleep, Finally Will opened his eyes sleepily, blinking a few times in surprise as he saw her face so close to his, then suddenly a broad smile of contentment and delight spread across his features as his memories from the night before resurfaced.

"Good Morning Beautiful!" He whispered, propping his chin up on an elbow and gazing lovingly down at her, brushing wisps of stray hair away from her face, before spontaneously leaning down and capturing her lips with his own, kissing her passionately, his hands sliding down her body rubbing warmth into her chilled pale skin.

At first Flora was too stunned to react; he had caught her by surprise with his tender attitude, and so she hadn't expected his mouth to descend so hungrily on hers. Futilely she tried to push him away but he was just too heavy and so she had no choice but to allow his kiss and caresses, finally Will had to relinquish her mouth and gasping for breath he smiled cheekily down at her before leaning down and nuzzling into her neck, kissing his way down to her breasts.

"Will we can't!" Flora gasped breathlessly as she realised just how ready he was becoming.

"Oh I think it's a little too late for that it's your own fault, if you only realised the effect you have on men…It wouldn't be such a surprise!" He added in between kisses, his hands stroking lazy circles over her naked flesh, teasingly brushing against sensitive areas, causing Flora to moan involuntarily. "I told you before; it's as if we were always meant together!"

Biting her bottom lip Flora tried to maintain control, this wasn't right. With a degree of will power she never knew existed, Flora seized Will's shoulders and forced him to release her lips.

"What is it, What's wrong?" Will asked, his face already flushed from his early morning exertion, a look of worry and concern etched onto his handsome face.

"We have to stop!" Flora replied her voice sounding stronger than in reality she felt. "Will please I can't…."

Upset Will still complied with her wishes, rolling off of her he turned and sat next to her in the hay. "I don't understand!" He retorted his voice heavy with emotion, his eyes locking with her's unwilling to let her look away.

For a moment Flora was unable to answer, unwilling to speak the words that she knew would crush him, and feeling more than a little exposed and vulnerable. Sighing softly she smiled at him, deciding for the moment to use another excuse and then later sit down and talk to the footman seriously, preferably when she was fully dressed and in the relative safety of her office. "Well it must be getting late, we'll be missed and for one don't relish being caught butt naked by one of the stables hands."

Laughing Will fell back in the hay next to her, he rolled on to his side sliding his hand across her stomach to hold her waist tightly, nuzzling into her hair. "Well that's a shame; it must be a crime to hide such beauty." He added, reaching out and reverently tracing his fingers down the side of her face, then down her slender neck to her flushed swollen breasts, which he caressed softly, his eyes continuing their journey down her body and Flora follow his intense gaze, her blush deepening further.

"Thank you but although it may look beautiful I can assure you I'm actually freezing!" She retorted.

"I'm nice and warm; may I suggest a further exchange of body heat?" Will replied a broad grin spreading across his face as he saw her cheeks flush once more.

"I was thinking more along the lines of getting up…" Flora added.

"Well I know a sure fire way of accomplishing that!" Will retorted cheekily, leaning forward to nibble her earlobe suggestively.

"That's not what I….William Forest you knew very well what I meant!" Flora snapped getting to her feet, and gathering her undergarments now anxious to get upstairs and indulge in a much needed bath.

Sighing loudly Will followed her lead and began to dress, his eyes never leaving the housekeeper, imprinting her every movement and nuance into his memory. As soon as they were both ready he made his way over to the door, unbolting it he stuck his head outside to check there was no one about. Fortunately it was still early and no one else appeared to be stirring, waving Flora over they made their way out of the stables, Flora had to stifle a gasp of surprise when Will grasped her hand possessively threading his fingers through hers as he dragged her out after him across the courtyard and into the house.

Heading upstairs Flora had no option than to let Will escort her, his hand still held hers captive, as they reached her door she went to pull out of his grasp, but was surprised to pulled once more into the footman's embrace.

"Will think where you are! If anyone were to come out of their rooms…."

But her protests were suddenly cut off as the footman's mouth descended on hers hungrily, breathlessly she was able to pull away. "Will please you have to go back to your room…"

"You mean I can't come in?" Will asked pouting slightly.

"I thought we had already settled this…" Flora retorted unable to keep the hint of annoyance out of her voice.

"Oh not for that! I was…I was hoping we could spend some time together, talking perhaps, I mean we have a lot to talk about!" Will replied his tone soft and pleading.

"I was going to take a bath…" Flora cut him off sternly; she simply wasn't ready yet to confront him with the reality of their situation.

"I could scrub your back!" Will added cheekily, running his hands up and down the housekeeper's back as he spoke.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Will we are going to have to be very careful!" Flora replied, seizing his hands and removing them from around her.

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" Will asked, reaching out a hand to stroke across her stomach. "I mean for all we know it might already be too late!" He added raising an eyebrow saucily, however his smile quickly faded when he saw how deathly pale the housekeeper suddenly became, for one moment he actually thought she was going to faint. "Flora it's all right, I don't walk away from my responsibilities!"

"I'm sorry…" She gasped, backing away from him and turning the handle disappeared into her room, leaving a worried and confused William Forest to gaze longingly after her.


	7. Episode 6b

Even though it is the morning after the all important night before, rumours are spreading faster than Mr Kraus' clotted cream that the new Lady Dalrimple-Sykes may not have spent as much time alone in the company of her disgruntled husband the previous evening as may have been expected or, indeed, required. In fact, her lady's maid Annie, although obviously 'not one to gossip', had managed to pass her version of events around amongst the lower servants quite successfully. So much so that her little game of Chinese Whispers, by the time it reaches down to the sculleries, is more of an over-inflated tale of unrequited lust rather than the less than exciting truth.

Annie to a giggling George and Fred: 'ere, you didn't hear it from me but poor Julian didn't have as much as thirty seconds to get his leg over before she ran away screaming back to her old room. Lady Francesca had already given her some tips about how to please him and 'doin' her duty', all the good they did her!

George setting to work on the mountain of silver polishing thanks to the wedding: oh, yeah, I bet she LOVED that, advice from that big sourpuss, she's 25 going on 55 that woman!

Annie screwing up her face, annoyed with George's untimely interruption: Yeah well anyway, so she told her to prettify herself, y'know, bit of fake, perfume, then Lady Rebecca pipes up that she's heard that a nice red corset and black stockings can do the trick! You should've seen Lady Francesca's face, pistols at dawn, it was!

Fred perching on the table and cackling: I bet it was! HEARD that does the trick, my arse! She's up for it and no mistake!

Nobody notices Frank standing by the door, listening to every word. He doesn't give a flying monkey's about whether his boss had managed to sew the all-important Dalrimple-Sykes seed or not, but at the mention of Rebecca his interest is certainly piqued. Every bit of knowledge about her is of course important, but this kind of information, well, he might just have to go and hunt out the items in question to satisfy his own very heightened curiosity. With a smile to himself, he slinks away back into the corridor.

Annie leaning forward, grinning cheekily: So yes she then flounces off to her marital bed and I'm told to wait outside the door, but less than a quick fumble later she flings the door open, her corset half unhooked, and makes for her old room, shouting something about 'never, ever' and 'knows where he can stick his damned inheritance' and a strange line about getting the frog rather than the handsome prince.

Fred half-heartedly rubbing at a spoon: Oooh looks like Lady Caroline will be after a bit on the side before long, build up her appetite before having to tackle Julian again, if you get my meaning!

George sniggering and grinning: Yeah, and reckon it'll be you, do you mate? You wouldn't have much competition from upstairs, doesn't seem, except for dashing Laird Hugo and his airs and graces. He's got a nice bit of leg, would make a good footman!

Charlotte dumping another box of silver next to George: And as you boys always said, Mrs Diggins likes a good bit of leg, doesn't she?

Fred tapping George playfully on the arm: Didn't know you have a soft spot for Hugo, George mate! Think you'll find you missed the boat on that one, Lady Rebecca has him firmly in place from what I can see!

George shaking his fist in mock disappointment: Damn those women!

Annie smiling mockingly at Charlotte: 'ere, talking of dashing and all that, I've just seen your favourite tasty doctor come to check on Jennifer and Mr Adams, so you might want to run and catch him, maybe play with some of his pointy instruments or assist him with a thorough examination?

Charlotte reddening in shock as she backs towards the door: Don't know what you mean, and don't be so crude, Annie Taylor, saying things you know nothing about!

Annie winking at Fred who looks away and down at his 'highly interesting' fish knife: Oh, I know all about those kind of things, Charlotte my dear, trust me! Don't be embarrassed, even good Catholic girls like yourself are allowed a bit of romance, let yourself go! It may stop you being such a prude!

Charlotte opens her mouth to speak, but changes her mind, dashing from the room, without any intent on going to find the lovely doctor. Of course, if she so happened to bump into him outside Mr Adams' door, well, so be it!

Fred shaking his head and sighing: Aw, Annie, why don't you just leave her alone?

Annie brightening and almost skipping out out of the room: Nothing wrong with playing a bit of cupid, Mr Matkin!

The Lady's maid then peers from behind the door, a cheeky grin on her face as she tucks her wild dark curls behind her ear. She giggles and points seductively at Fred

Annie her voice low and sultry: I'll see YOU later!

George stops polishing and raises a curious eyebrow at Fred, who simply shrugs and rifles through his knives, ignoring his fellow footman's knowing grin and nudges for information until Fred slams a butter knife down in frustration, sighing

Fred flopping back into his chair: Look, it's nothing, ok? Bit of fun, you know how it is!

George smiling slyly: Yeah, whatever you say, mate. Annie Taylor, my, my!

Cut to Adams' room, where the under-butler is propped up in his bed. The doctor is listening to his heart through his stethoscope and tutting, shaking his head

Dr Evans pulling away and flicking it around his neck: Mr Adams, you're not resting are you, hm? Like I told you?

Adams roughly buttoning up his pyjama top: I AM bloody resting, doc, I've been stuck in this bed for what feels like all eternity, what more do you want?

Evans smiling dryly: I'm sure, but you need to calm your thoughts, the stress is still evident. Tell me, before your heart attack, had you been doing anything, well, out of the ordinary, something a little strenuous, perhaps? Physically, I mean? On and off continuously over time, as well as during that evening?

Adams frowns hard, shaking his head and pretending with all his might that he hadn't done anything that may have got his pulse racing and his temperature up during the previous weeks. Pursing his lips and scratching hs forehead he finally replies

Adams his tone a little too adamant: No sir, nothing I can think of. At all. Maybe a little light exercise, trying to watch my weight a bit, y'know.

Evans chuckling and packing his bag: Watching your weight, eh? Well best cure for that, cut down on Mr Kraus' fine cakes, although my mother loves his weekly recipies in the Telegraph. Also avoid too much butter on your toast. Exercise for a man in your condition may be your undoing, Mr Adams!

Adams trying to hide disappointment: Aye, doctor, you're right.

Evans stopping by the door and tapping his nose: Oh yes, and I'd cut down on those trips into town, if I were you. That kind of - ahem - exercise is the worst of all!

Before Adams can rebuke his claim of town visits, Evans winks at him and exists, leaving a bitterly downhearted under-butler to mull over his dire misfortune. The doctor, momentarily in his own thoughts, crashes straight into the maid standing right in front of him, a bundle of sheets in her arms. They fall from her grip and scatter about their feet, and she gives a little yelp. This isn't how it's supposed to happen, for goodness sake!

Evans fleetingly gaining eye contact with the blushing maid: Oh, I'm so very sorry, Miss Lewis! Let me help you!

Charlotte biting her lip and hurriedly bending down: I'm so sorry, Dr, my fault entirely, don't worry, I'll do it.

Evans crouching in front of her: Nonsense! It was me, not watching my step, head in the clouds as usual!

Charlotte giggling awkwardly: Oh I do that a lot, have my head in the clouds...

Her voice trails off, their eyes locking firmly, and for a long moment both can't tear away, the loose sheets half gathered up, their hands underneath them and out of sight. Gently Evans brushes her hand and Charlotte can't help but feel a surge of sin overwhelm her

Evans his voice slightly urgent as they both slowly stand, their gaze still fixed: Would you like to, er, go for a walk sometime? In town, around the green, if it's not too cold? We could feed the ducks, maybe, or...

Charlotte interrupting, with the same desperation: Yes. Yes please, I...I would love to, ducks are lovely, my favourite, although I wouldn't want to have one as a pet, we've had enough problems here with that kind of thing, pecking and suchlike...

Although the doctor is standing smiling gently at Charlotte, a mild look of amusement on his handsome face, she just cannot stop wittering on, her attraction to him increasing as she has for the first time chance to study him in more detail

Charlotte her eyes wondering over his features:...I tried to pick up a duck once, well it was more of a duckling really, although not quite as fluffy, I was only twelve, and it pecked my nose, I've a really small scar, if you look closely, but at the time there was blood everywhere, and, er, well...

She trails off again as the doctor leans in and examines her closely, reaching up and touching the side of her nose with one gentle stroke, causing her eyes to close at the sensation

Evans suddenly pulling away, shock in his voice: Oh, I'm sorry! That was rude of me.

Charlotte backing away slightly, her cheeks glowing in excitement as well as embarrassment: No, you're a doctor so these things must be fascinating to you.

Evans shoving his hands in his pockets, his bag between his feet: Question is, could you eat a whole one?

Charlotte blinking in confusion: A whole, er, what?

Evans chuckling in a surprisingly sexy and dashing fashion: A whole duck! I'm a dab hand at cooking, you know, I have a part time housekeeper but I cook all my own meals. Maybe, after feeding the ducks, you could come back to my place to eat one? I don't live anywhere fancy, just modest, but it's plenty for a single man of simple tastes. When is your day off?

Charlotte biting her lip again, her heart leaping: Er, next Tuesday as a matter of fact.

Evans picking up his case, his eyes twinkling like emeralds at her: Shall I pick you up at midday? If you want to, of course, I mean I wouldn't want to intrude...

Charlotte turning to leave, glancing and smiling broadly over her shoulder at her new interest: I look forward to it, Dr Evans.

But the rumours about Lady Caroline and her love life aren't the only ones to be flying around. Jarvis had been summoned to see the rather jovial Earl, and to Flora's annoyance she hadn't been invited, but the word among the halls of the servants quarters is that there might be another trip abroad approaching, this time for the Earl to reclaim his money in person. For one, he had let it be known that he didn't want any 'tom, dick or harry' handling his precious cash now it had been found, stashed away in one of Lord Fiffington-Piffles' trunks in India, so the only option would be for him to get it back himself, to prevent risk of any further embarrassment. Of course, any visit would not be able to take place until at least sometime in the New Year, but talk of travelling again delighted the more adventurous and made the sea-sick turn rather green in dread.

Jarvis is still in the meeting with the Earl, probably going through financial matters, Flora thought with distaste, which she as a little woman would of course have no understanding of. Best keep to her housekeeping figures, she mused with a loud tut, before turning her mind to thinking about whether she dared leave her office for fear (for want of a word) of bumping into William, quite literally if he is to have his way again. But just as she is trying to make sense of everything that had happened since her last fateful encounter with Walter, her head resting on her desk in despair, there is a light knock and Grace pops her head around the door, smiling at first until she sees just how exhausted Flora actually looks

Grace her brow furrowing: Er, Mrs Ryan, Lady Rebecca is asking after you, could you take her her elevenses, she asks.

Flora breathing in deeply and waving Grace away, her tone short and sharp: Yes, yes, I will be there in a moment, Grace. Make sure it's prepared, I don't have time to do it myself, and I don't want to be late for her.

Upstairs, Rebecca is standing staring at her fully-clothed reflection in the mirror, concentrating hard on her appearance. Tapping her bottom lip with her finger, she lets out a quiet 'hmmm', turning to the side and staring at her stomach, brushing her hand over it as though almost expecting to feel a bump already. Smiling softly to herself she begins to hum the Scottish ballad Andrew would often sing to her to soothe her (well, she didn't have the heart to tell him she would rather listen to a mangled cat than hear him attempt at a tune), the rather ironic 'My Love is like a Melody'. She is half way through the second verse, her sweet voice filling the room, when there is a tap at her door.

Clasping her hands in delight, she calls 'enter, Flora my dear!' Sure enough the housekeeper makes an entrance, carrying the usual tray of tea and lemon cake. Flora's weak and tired smile immediately causes Rebecca concern, ushering her to sit down and taking her hand in hers, waiting for an explanation. But none is forthcoming

Rebecca patting her hand, Flora staring down at her lap: Flora, what is it? You look very pale, and why so tired? Have you been up all night with Walter, you cheeky thing!

Flora shouting a little louder than she anticipated through her desperation: NO! No, I haven't, I……I'm just a little tired that's all, because of the wedding.

Rebecca pouring the tea due to Flora's apparent inability to function: Yes, you should be glad that wretched event is over. I saw Mr Jarvis before, he didn't look his best either. I saw him giving instructions to that William Wood, is it?

Flora Mouth dry and voice cracked, her eyes widening at the mention of her brief lover: Forest! It's William Forest!

Rebecca nodding and smiling: Ah yes,I knew it had something to do with trees………

Flora grabbing her arm and shaking it, her tea splashing into the saucer: What….what was he saying? Will….Mr Forest! Was Walter saying anything of interest to him? Did he look angry? Becca, tell me!

Rebecca shrugging as Flora's alarm increased: I'm not sure, I didn't really pay much attention, it seemed amicable enough, although Mr Jarvis did look a bit cross about something or another. Don't think it was particularly aimed at Mr Forest, though.

Flora jumping up and pacing, her arms wrapped around themselves: So nobody hit anyone, Walter didn't wrestle Mr Forest to the ground, or twist his arm behind his back and threaten to rip it or any other part of his anatomy off!

Rebecca confused but also slightly amused at this peculiar image: No, not that I saw anyway!

Flora slumping back down next to Rebecca, her hand placed firmly on her forehead: Well, thank the heavens for that.

Rebecca shifting slightly to face the housekeeper: Flora, I don't like to intrude, and I mean tell me to keep my well-to-do nose out if you like, but is there something wrong? Has Mr Forest done something he shouldn't have?

Flora sighs heavily, shaking her head and sniffing, her tired and wistful eyes full of sadness. She begins to sob, her entire body shaking, and Rebecca is so taken aback by this outpouring of emotion that all she can do is pull Flora towards her and soothe her. After a minute or so, Rebecca coaxingly tries to get Flora to talk to her, even cracking a joke about the uneaten cake and how Flora shouldn't normally have her cake and eat it, but this time she should make an exception. This only causes the heartbroken housekeeper to wail even louder, until she eventually, builds up the energy and courage to tell the one person who she knew could understand

Flora spills her heart out as Rebecca sits and listens in stunned silence, telling her everything from the meal, to the letter, her dying friend, then being found by Will, encouraging him to touch her, to take her. After finishing, she can hardly look her friend in the face, she is sure she is going to tell her she is a disappointment, and if her and Walter couldn't make it work, then how on earth could her and Andrew. But, instead, Rebecca frowns thoughtfully before speaking

Rebecca breathing deeply: So have you answered all the important questions?

Flora staring through tear-stained and bloodshot eyes: I...I don't know, I can't think straight, I don't even know what I'm feeling, let alone being able to answer questions!

Rebecca her voice rather stern and business-like: Well, you must. Do you love him?

Flora raising her eyebrows and mopping her eyes: Who, Walter? Yes, I'm sure I still do, but I don't know if I can forgive him.

Rebecca laughing gently: I actually meant Mr Forest, do you love him?

Flora staring at the ceiling, the shame overwhelming her: No, I don't love him, I don't think anyway, he was just there at the wrong time...

Rebecca with a wry smile: Or the right time, whichever way you look at it!

Flora sipping her tea and clattering her cup back into its saucer: It's not a joking matter, Rebecca! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I….I just needed comforting, some affection, and Will was there for me. For a short while, he set me free, physically and mentally, it reminded me of how it was in the beginning with Walter, the passion, the lust.

Rebecca nudging her, staring at her pitifully: And the feeling of love?

Flora shrugging and closing her eyes, her eyelids weary from tears and tiredness: No, that's where it was different. No love, just lust. I mean I'm very fond of him, but I think it may have meant more to him than it did to me, I just don't know, Rebecca. He even joked about having children!

Rebecca snatching back Flora's hand and squeezing it firmly: Flora, you MUST tell him it was only a one night thing. It was, wasn't it?

Flora quietly, not knowing whether to believe herself or not: Yes. I think?

Rebecca leaning further towards her, forcing her to look her in the eye so she can get her message through: You have to decide, you can't just pretend it didn't happen, he might be in love with you, and if you don't tell him where he stands he may think he can take Walter's place. Is that what you want?

Flora the tears welling up again and rolling down her pale cheeks: No, it's not. He's a nice sweet boy, but he can never take Walter's place. For all his faults, after everything he's done, thinking he can control me, telling me how I feel and think when he doesn't have a clue, I still love him. I sometimes wonder why, but I can't change it, and it would never change, no matter how many times I'm unfaithful.

Rebecca drawing the housekeeper into another hug: Don't you think you two have cancelled out each other's actions now?

Flora: Maybe, but I don't know I can look him in the face again without thinking of Will, and now I can't trust myself as well as him. Oh, Rebecca, what am I to do!

Rebecca cradling her head and rocking her gently: Talk to both of them, talk to Walter before you let everything ruin your lives. He loves you so much, it's obvious to everyone. His eyes light up when you come into the room, he smiles at you in a way he doesn't smile at anybody else. Of course he has his faults, Flora, he's a man! But it doesn't mean he doesn't care for you, he needs you, and you need him. Just talk to him.

Flora nods sadly, her mind spinning, the feel of Will still fresh in her mind and on her skin. It takes her a moment to realise that Rebecca has changed the subject, but the mention of Frank jolts her out of her daydream

Flora blinking, sitting up and shaking her head: Frank? Wants to act as a go-between!

Rebecca her eyes brightening: Yes, he seems quite friendly, don't you think?

Flora her eyes widening. Finally, this is something she most definitely has a firm view on: Certainly not! He's a trouble-maker, that Keneally, and no mistake! He's up to something if he's offered that, don't trust him an inch. And whatever he's up to, it won't be good! My advice is stay away from him, and if I'm to take yours then you should take mine!

Rebecca ponders this for a moment, until she smiles slyly to herself before turning to Flora, who is preparing to leave with the tray due to the lateness of the hour. Just as Flora thanks her for her advice, Rebecca hesitates for a moment

Rebecca turning a little pink, smiling bashfully: Flora, so was it good? To feel what it's like with someone different?

Flora returning the smile, her cheeks reddening: Yes, it was. Completely. To do it just once is enough. But don't be getting ideas, stay away from Frank!

Rebecca dismissing her comment with a wave of the hand: Oh, I will, I will. But, one more question, while you were with Will, did you at any point close your eyes and think of him as Walter, even though Will was a whole fresh experience?

Flora pausing before nodding slowly: In a way, I suppose I did, at some point. I'm not sure.

Rebecca her voice low and profound: Well, if you did, then I think Flora my dear you may be closer to answering your doubts than you think.

Flora, without a word, holds eye contact with Rebecca for a moment before smiling and exiting

Meanwhile downstairs two very different men are both on a very similar quest, both of which start with finding the housekeeper. Felix Kraus was once more holding court in his kitchen, surveying with satisfaction as his maids scurried around him, each intent on completing their tasks. However despite apparently watching his staff like hawks Felix's thoughts were far from the kitchen. He had a sixth sense about those two, something had gone horridly wrong, this morning when neither had appeared for breakfast he had mistakenly thought it was because they were otherwise occupied. After all he had helped Emily prepare their cold supper, not that Walter knew that of course, the butler was still doing his best to ignore him at every possibility a fact which pained Felix greatly as they had been friends for so many years.

Shaking his head sadly Felix realised there was little he could do about that situation, however he was going to be damned if he didn't find out what had gone wrong, he had caught a glimpse of Walter heading up to see the Earl that morning with a look of thunder on his face that could only mean they'd had another fight. He'd spent the morning trying to both cook lunch and dash about to find Flora, however when he'd finally heard she had arrived in her office and went along to find her he discovered she had already left to go take Lady Rebecca her elevenses. Pacing around his kitchen like a caged tiger, he turned suddenly and barking instructions at Mr Simpkins not to meddle with his menu whilst he was gone he stormed off to find either Flora or Walter and find out what the hell was going on.

Meanwhile the Butler was himself on a similar search, having been closeted with the Earl all morning taking down copious notes about their upcoming trip, he had now finally been released and could finally get round to the one thing that was on his mind, finding Flora. Storming down the corridors, servants flung themselves against the walls and into open doorways just to get out of his path, until finally he reached her office. Flinging the door open he stepped inside, expecting to see a livid Flora staring up at him from behind her desk, but instead the room was empty, she wasn't here. Running his hands through his hair in despair, Jarvis paced the room, where was she? How could he make amends if he couldn't even find her? Throwing himself down in her fireside chair, he stared glumly into the fire.

All morning it had taken him to come up with this plan, all the time he was supposed to be planning the trip to India with the Earl he had in fact been desperately searching for a way he could show Flora he was sorry, he knew the usual wouldn't work, nor would an apology but he had to do something soon before she did something drastic. Her words from the night before still echoed in his mind, "maybe I'll take your advice and go live a little." He doubted she had any idea how those words had haunted his dreams, the very thought of her with someone else, loving another, it made him sick to his stomach. Well at least he'd been able to corner that little snot Forest earlier, carefully quizzing him about his whereabouts and then double checking his story with George Cosmo who had fortunately confirmed they had been playing cards all night. But that still didn't mean Forest wouldn't try and take advantage of the situation, so he had to get in first.

As he figured it, Flora was angry with him for one main reason that he had tried to control her. He knew she would never accept his reasons for doing so, that he was doing it for her own good, she was so stubborn and independent that she had to feel she was the one in control of her own decisions. So the only way he could convince her to trust him again, was for him to make the first step and trust her. Putting his hand into his pocket he drew out the envelope contained within, tracing his fingers along his crisp penmanship, caressing her name lovingly. It would break his heart to let her go, but he knew if they were going to stand a chance of surviving this, then she needed space and would have to decide to return to him of her own volition. Besides she had always wanted to travel, and the amount he had made out to her would ensure she could do so whilst indulging a few little flippancies that would make the whole experience that much more exciting. He had already posted his letter to Mrs Harrison explaining the misunderstanding, he just hoped for all their sakes she had not departed for the continent already.

However the butler's private musing was suddenly interrupted when the office door was flung open, but as Jarvis jumped to his feet he realised with disappointment the visitor wasn't Flora but Felix.

"What do you want?" Jarvis growled at the chef.

"I was looking for Flora!" Felix replied, slightly more tersely than he had intended.

"Well as you can see Mr Kraus she isn't here, so why don't you keep your unwelcome foreign nose out of our private affairs." Jarvis retorted, his tone angry but his eyes sad.

"Oh it's like that is it…" Kraus began but Jarvis cut him off.

"Well I hardly thing you're someone who is in a position to offer advice about the fairer sex, do you Mr Kraus, I mean considering your preferences!" Jarvis added a sneer, distorting his handsome features.

Felix looked him intently in the eye, before smiling broadly and turning towards the door.

"What the hell was that about?" Jarvis bellowed seizing Felix by the elbow and turning him round to face him. "Is there something about this whole situation you happen to find amusing Mr Kraus?"

"You!" Felix retorted. "You have the nerve to question my ability to continue a successful relationship, yet if we examine your own track record…My my Walter it is far from being anything resembling a bed of roses!" And with that he turned and left intent on finding Emily and discussing with her what they should do next; leaving a shaken and angry Butler in his wake.

As Flora made her way back from seeing Rebecca her friend's words echoed through her mind. Yes she was sure she loved Walter, and whatever she felt for Will paled by comparison, but she wasn't she if she could ever believe a word he said ever again. She was so preoccupied with these thoughts that she barely noticed when she knocked over the teapot on the tray she was carrying, it was only when the remainder of the tea splashed over the edge and on to her nice clean apron that she was jarred from her thoughts. Huffing slightly in annoyance she thrust the tray into the hands of a passing maid, ignoring the confused and puzzled look on her face before turning and storming up to her room to get a clean apron, and thus missing only by seconds the chef's sudden and stormy departure from her office.

Ten minutes later after she had left her room, a nice new apron fastened about her small waist she headed towards the back staircase intent on returning to her office and make a start on those advertisements for new maids. However just as she began to descend two voice floated up the stairwell, as they made their way up to the next floor, her floor.

"Look I've already told you I don't know what happened, Walter and I are hardly the best of friends these days."

"Yes, Yes I know Felix, and if he won't tell us then we'll have to get it out of Flora." Emily replied.

"Don't be too hard on her…" Felix started.

"Felix I'm shocked." Emily retorted. "As if I would, I'll just ask politely but firmly what on earth my Walter could have possibly done this time? It's only if she refuses to answer that the thumb screws and emotional blackmail will be used!"

Panicking and realising the last thing she needed now was a confrontation with the self appointed Taplow's mafia, Flora whirled around sharply, she didn't have much time, any second and they would reach the corner in the stair and see her. Dashing down the corridor Flora stopped at the first door available to her, rattling the handle she realised it was locked, glancing back over her shoulder she could hear the voices getting closer and closer so she pulled out her key chain and selecting her master key, jammed it into the lock forcing the door to open, and closing it quickly behind her.

Leaning back against the door, her eyes closed Flora finally let out the breath she had been holding, turning slightly she leant her ear against the cold wood, intent on listening in on the conversation between the chef and Walter's mother. She was concentrating so hard, straining her hearing that she did not hear the quiet splash of water or the sound of wet feet on cold stone, it was only when a pair of wet hands slipped round her waist and twisted her towards the owner that she realised she was not alone; her gasp of shock cut off as his lips captured hers.

Panicking as she finally realised where she was and who was kissing her, Flora grasped Will's shoulders and tried to push him away but the water from his bath meant her hands kept slipping over his skin and she was unable to get a firm grip. Finally Will relinquished her lips and smiling cheekily at her, whispered softly in her ear. "My My Mrs Ryan, missing me already?"

"Will please it's not like that…" Flora began, trying desperately to restrain his wandering hands as they began to unfasten her dress.

"Really?" Will chuckled. "So is this a habit of yours barging into the men's bathroom, randomly throughout the day even when it's locked?"

"No!" Flora exclaimed. "I was trying to avoid Felix and Emily and this was the closest door."

"A likely story!" Will retorted leaning in and kissing his way down her neck.

"Listen for yourself if you don't believe me!" Flora replied.

Raising an eyebrow the footman moved away from her slightly and listened against the door as he had seen her doing, enabling Flora to realise for the first time how barely he was attired, with only a towel tucked about his waist. Blushing slightly as he caught her staring at the way the water dripped down his skin and puddled at his feet, she looked away. "Well have they gone yet, what are they saying?" She whispered to Will.

"They're arguing, it seems Emily is convinced you've locked yourself in your room and are ignoring all their knocks and pleas in the hope they will be convinced you're not there and will go away, so she's demanding they wait it out!"

"Oh No!" Flora gasped realising the implications that would have. "They can't be serious?"

"Well that would have its advantages!" Will replied once more approaching the housekeeper, who gradually backed away from him and further into the room, each time maintaining the distance between them.

"Will please, this is hardly the place!" She added trying to placate the amorous footman.

"Hmmmmmmm so you prefer the stables to here? " Will asked a mischievous twinkle in his eye, as he carefully manoeuvred the housekeeper towards his goal.

"It's the middle of the day, talking of which why are you here, shouldn't you be working?" Flora asked puzzled.

Will grimaced slightly and stopped in his tracks. "I was working but Mr Jarvis pulled me aside earlier, quizzing me about what I got up to last night…Don't worry I'd already thought of that and I got George to cover for me, saying I'd been playing him at cards all night!" He added when he saw her panicked expression.

"But even so that wasn't enough for him, so in order to keep me out of mischief he had me take all the doggies for a walk and the little blighters decided to race down the hill, so I ended up sliding down half of it caked in mud. I'm having to miss me dinner just to get all cleaned up. So personally I think I deserve a little bonus, don't you?" He asked dashing forward causing Flora to leap backwards and fall into his bath.

Panicking the housekeeper shrieked at the cold water, splashing about in the tub and only succeeding in getting herself even wetter than before. Giggling at her predicament Will lent forward and being the gentleman he was assisted the now sopping housekeeper out of the bath.

"Damn you Will that's not funny!" Flora began but her rant was cut off when there was a sharp knock and a voice boomed through the door.

"What on earth is going on in there?" Emily's shrill voice demanded.

For a moment Will and Flora looked at each other in bewilderment, before Will ushered her towards the cupboard in the corner and helped her squeeze in before himself striding over to the door and flinging it wide open, and glaring affronted at both Felix and Emily.

"Yes can I help you?" He asked in his most aggrieved voice.

"We….We heard a noise!" Felix began. "It sounded like a woman screaming!" Emily cut in, glaring at the young footman in a manner very similar to that of her son's.

"Well as you can see," Will replied, pushing the door open wide and revealing both the room and his state of undress to the pair, "There is no one here accept myself!"

Stammering and embarrassed both Felix and Emily turned hurried back down the corridor, leaving Will to slam the door shut an help a relieved Flora out from her hiding place.

Dripping wet the housekeeper tried to brush the water out of her silk dress, however try all she liked she couldn't hide the darker splodges on her dress, which was typical she thought, the one day she decides not to wear a dark colour and this happens. Distracted Flora gratefully accepted the towel Will passed her, and began to work vigorously on drying her dress, that was of course until she realised where the towel had come from. Glancing upwards she locked her eyes on his raised eyebrow and cheeky grin.

"I'm not going to change my mind Will!" She replied in a slightly higher tone than was normal.

Pouting slightly Will seized her hand and drew it up to his lips, where he chastely kissed each of her knuckles in turn, his eyes never leaving hers for a second. "Are you sure? Not even for me?"

"Not even for you!" Flora replied throwing the towel at the smirking footman and storming over to the door.

"Isn't it possible to come to some arrangement? One that would suit both our needs?" Will asked sincerely. "I know you're having second thoughts about last night Flora I can see it in your eyes."

Whirling round the housekeeper faced him and taking a deep breath. "I am…I don't love you Will…And nothing you say or do is going to change that! But that doesn't mean I don't care about what happens to you, I don't want to hurt you, that's why this has to stop now!"

"Why does it have to stop?" Will began but Flora cut him off.

"Because I can't let you take Walter's place!" Flora retorted. "I don't know what I'm going to do about my relationship with Walter, but until I do I can't have any emotional complications. Last night was wonderful you set me free in so many ways, please don't try and chain me now!" Flora added her tone pleading.

Nodding slowly Will walked over to her, and taking her hands in his squeezed them softly. "What if it wasn't emotional, what if we kept it just as a bit of fun, something to make the day go by a little faster, and if at the end you decide to go back to him, I would understand…"

"Do you love me Will?" Flora asked, trying to get him to look her in the eye.

"Well I…" He began unable to meet her gaze.

"Do you?" She asked softly seizing his chin and forcing him to look her straight in the eye.

"No!" He replied, but his eyes flinched at the word and she knew he was only saying what he thought she wanted to hear.

"Liar!" Flora replied, brushing her hand softly down the side of his face.

"You see I've already hurt you, and tempting as your offer is Will, I couldn't let myself be that selfish, I'd just be taking from you and giving nothing in return."

"But I don't mind.." Will began, before she placed her fingers across his lips silencing him.

"You would, eventually you would, and then you'd hate me for it, trust me its better this way." She added before turning the key in the lock, only pausing when Will laid a hand on her shoulder.

"May I?" He asked cautiously, "One last time?" He added leaning to kiss her softly, before gathering her into his arms and kissing her passionately only letting her go with great reluctance.

Shaking his head Will wrapped his arms across his naked chest feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable then just as she was opening the door he called out to her. "If you ever change your mind?"

"I'll know who to ask!" She replied before turning to walk out into the corridor, only to stop dead in the doorway. "Mr Cosmo!"

"Mrs Ryan!" George retorted his eyes taking in in one glance the dishevelled flushed housekeeper and the semi-naked footman, and automatically drawing his own conclusions.

"Yes well…"The housekeeper stalled. "I'll be on my way, I'm sure you two have work to do!" She added before storming off down the corridor leaving the two footmen to gaze after her.

"You alright Will?" George asked taking in his friends pained expression.

Will simply shrugged his shoulders, before slamming the door shut in his friends face, and as George paused for a moment outside the door he could has sworn he heard his friend start to cry.

Rebecca is very glad to get back to her room, for a little while at least. Exhausted after putting the first part of her plan into action, she slumps down in front of her toilet and gathers what she needs from her drawers and cupboards to make it as realistic as possible. Dinner had been a complete disaster due to the one-woman nightmare that is Lady Caroline, bawling her unreasonable orders at the servants and almost making Charlotte cry. So rather than keeping her friend company, Rebecca had escaped as soon as possible, paying Andrew a brief visit for a short chat and a quick fumble, completely disobeying doctors orders. She had told Andrew that she loves him, and although she couldn't visit him for a while everything will be alright and not to worry about a thing, just to concentrate on getting better.

Staring hard into her mirror, Lady Rebecca dabs a tissue in a bowl of water and adds the finishing touches to the smudges down her cheeks, her eyes red from furious rubbing. Letting down her hair, she roughly runs her fingers through it, but not quite satisfied with the outcome, she climbs onto her bed and rolls around frantically, pressing her head into her pillow. Yes, that ought to do it, she thinks, but now for the most important bit. Rifling through her wardrobe, slightly perturbed at the new arrangement Lizzie had given her dresses, she eventually comes across the exact one she is looking for, and fortunately it is one she is able to fasten herself due to the catches and ribbon at the front. Giggling to herself, Rebecca remembers how she bought it when she was feeling a little naughty in Paris, obtained during the same shopping spree as the red corset, no less. She has still yet to wear this risque 'little' number (with three layers not counting petticoats) for Andrew, but while she can still fit into it she decides that this will be the perfect opportunity for its debut. Oh, yes. Slipping it on, she quickly fastens and laces part way up, until she stops, smiling to herself, just across her bust. Unfastening her white lacy corset so it meets with the revealing last joined clasp, she makes certain one sleeve of the dress is pushed off her shoulder and further down her arm than the other. Rebecca no longer looks the figure of respectability, but instead as if she has been sobbing for hours, completely unaware and unashamed of her appearance, not least her uncovered assets and sexual allure. With a final splash of perfume on her neck and cleavage, and a quick but precise application of blood-red lipstick for that voluptuous pout, everything is set.

It had all been too easy, finding him out riding with Lord Julian and asking him quietly, with a wink, to come and find her in an hour after a non-existent liaison with Andrew. But sure enough, Frank taps lightly on her door an hour to the minute after she had found him, eager to see her and begin earning his money. Or so he hopes.

It hadn't, of course, taken Rebecca long to work out that her nasty, interfering sister must have something to do with Frank's sudden interest. Also, however, she knows Franny isn't as clever as she thinks she is, so if she has decided to use Frank and his obvious desire for her sister to get what she wants, then two can most definitely play at that game. Throwing herself onto her bed face down, making sure her dress and petticoats are lifted so her right leg is exposed up to the knee, she begins to 'sob' loudly, calling tearfully for her visitor to enter.

Frank dashes into her room, closing the door quietly behind him, but the smirk is wiped swiftly from his face when he sees Lady Rebecca crying her heart out onto her white sheets. No, no, curses Frank to himself, this isn't how it is supposed to be! Although, maybe, any vulnerability she has could be worked to his benefit, most definitely.

Frank moving slowly over to the bed, unsure if Rebecca had actually heard him enter through her tears: My Lady, you are upset!

Rebecca sniffing and sitting up slightly to face him: Oh Mr Keneally - Frank - I am so pleased you are here! Andrew and I...oh, it is so awful! I have just been to see him and...oh...!

Dabbing a handkerchief under her blackened eyes, she lets out a loud wail, but instead of falling back onto her bed she leans forward as the valet reaches the foot of her bed, noticing quickly and to his delight her state of undress and the uncovered swell of her cleavage. The poor, silly, attractive woman, he muses, she has no idea how she looks, all that flesh on show. If she carries on like this she will be the prize notch on the Keneally bedpost sooner than he had anticipated.

Frank feigning concern through his silent pleasure at the sign of trouble: Lady Farquarson, you can tell me, as I've said before, I'll do anything to help you, and to help my good friend Mr Adams.

Rebecca daintily dabs her nose and slides to the edge of the bed so her legs dangle off it, leaning back onto her elbows and naturally pushing her chest up and outwards.

Rebecca her voice shaky and weak: Andrew and I have just had the most beastly argument, he has told me he no longer cares for me, the brute, but I still love him, Mr Keneally! And I'm sure he still loves me even after his cruel words, I just need you to ask him for me, and as you were so kind to offer!

Rebecca knows full well he is unlikely to do as she asks, and is probably going to tell Franny instead, so if she can convince her through Frank that it's over then maybe her and her beloved can carry on in secret. And if she can be seen to be vulnerable to Frank, then even better. Any impression she can give that she is attracted to him, no matter how subtle or not, she hopes will be enough to throw him and Franny off the scent. But although she had told herself that she will never do anything with him because she loves Adams and despises Frank for conspiring with her sister, she can't help but feel the excitement of the overwhelming sexual power she has over him. She feels she can twist him any way she wants just by flashing him a little bit of leg, but the consequences of his lust for her coupled with her prolonged teasing haven't really entered her thoughts. Well for all Flora had said he seems fairly harmless, if a little enthusiastic in his appreciation of beautiful women. Surely this isn't too much of a dangerous game for her to be playing?

Frank leaning on her bedpost, his eyes fixed only on her as they roam hungrily: Of course, I'm sure he still loves you, but I will speak to him for you and report back, M'Lady.

Franny reaching out and touching his hand, her saddened eyes sparkling with tears: Oh, you are such a gentleman, Mr Keneally, however will I repay you? I have little money to give as I only receive a small allowance, but if there is anything I can do, I just love Andrew so much!

Frank can hardly resist a sly smile spreading across his lips at his own private joke - of course there is something you can do M'Lady, lie back and think of England

Frank shaking his head as sincerely as he can muster: Oh no, Lady Rebecca, I wouldn't hear of it!

Yes, because it's not as if he is going to go near Andrew Adams with this little gem. Let the foolish Scot think what he likes, yes this is exactly what Frank Keneally needs - nobody, especially Lady Francesca, is going to be the boss of him in this game of life, so why should she or her naive sister know he is running his own agenda? The pieces of his plan to win Lady Rebecca for himself, willingly on her part or not, are finally falling into place, and that pleases him no end

Rebecca smiling meekly: Well, if you are sure, thank you. I can't risk seeing him right now, my sister Francesca watches my every move, it's simply ghastly!

To Rebecca's dismay, the valet can only muster a soft smile in return, almost as if he has little or no interest in the line she is feeding him. He appears to be in a kind of daydream, his eyes glazed over and paying her no attention whatsoever. Maybe if she had known the thoughts and images of her playing in his over-active imagination she wouldn't have carried out her next move to regain his interest, but would instead have sent him from her room in disgust.

Rebecca sliding further off the bed, her dress straps trailing about her elbows: Mr Keneally, would you mind awfully untying my shoes? I fear I should change before facing the world again.

Frank, keeping his cool and trying desperately to suppress any further amorous thoughts, nods and kneels down. No Lady had ever asked him, a male valet, to remove their shoes for them before, the saucy little minx! Bringing her dress up slightly, then a little further still until Frank is sure he has just seen a flash of the lacy top of her stocking, he carefully and silently works the lace of her left shoe, Rebecca's eyes fixed firmly on his face. Removing it with ease, she wiggles her toes as he quickly turns his attention to her right foot, but then something unexpected happens. Pulling off her shoe, without glancing up he begins to massage her foot gently, running his fingers over her toes and her sole, the sensation causing her to flinch as they travel in little circles around her ankle and down over her heel. Realising exactly where Mr Keneally could be intending to take this outrageous intrusion, Rebecca, after a momentary lapse of weakness as his hand slides itself slowly up her calf, thinks quickly about what to do next without scaring him off completely

Rebecca snorting loudly, jerking herself away from him and sobbing: Oh, Andrew used to rub my feet like that, oh how I miss him! I'm sorry Mr Keneally, you must think me a foolish woman, and I suppose I am, I feel so vulnerable, so...unloved!

Frank lets go of her leg, no this isn't the right time for this, but the sight of her body so close to him had once again gotten the better of him. Closing his eyes and sighing, Frank raises to his feet, licking his lips and leaning in slightly. His mouth curls into a reassuring smile, and giving her the once over, their eyes locking uncomfortably before he leaves her bedside and exits, vowing to return soon with news of Adams. Rebecca, flopping back onto her bed, is left feeling a little uncomfortable, but never-the-less utterly pleased with herself.

The next morning the footmen were gathered in the courtyard brushing down the Earl's collection of hunting pink jackets. George was laughing loudly whilst Fred gestured wildly as he re-enacted for the assembled group his pursuits with the lovely Miss Taylor the night before, which bizarrely enough had involved a now infamous blue garter and a certain peacock that had become suddenly jealous of anyone who came too near to its favourite footman.

"Yes so after we'd managed to shut the damn thing in a stall Annie said, Oh Fred how about we move to the pastry, I mean it is warmer and I doubt we'd be accosted by any large birds in there. But I told her, well that depends; I mean if Kraus has left any of his cherry pies on the side we might get attacked by Mrs Diggins on one of her nightly raids."

"And were you?" Joseph asked.

"Not Mrs Diggins no, but we did have a close run in with Jarvis's mother, she was sneaking about in the kitchen so we had to squeeze the both of us into the pantry and we were stuck in there for ages, I'm telling you that's the closest I ever want to be acquainted with fish, don't think I can ever stomach the stuff again!"

However as the footmen all burst out laughing, all except Will who was still strangely quiet, they were suddenly interrupted by a delicate cough, and ducking their heads under the washing lines they all stared at the newcomer, Fred's mouth dropping open in astonishment.

In front of them stood the most delicate looking creature they had ever seen, she was tiny in stature, barely reaching five feet, her pale face framed by blond ringlets and her grey eyes wide and nervous.

"Er can we help you Miss?" Joseph asked.

"Err Yes, ow do you say….I am wanting a Monsieur Jarrviss, he is the Major-domo ici, n'est pas?"

"Urghhhhh" Joseph began looking desperately between his fellow servants hoping one of them would show a glimmer of understanding. "Mr Jarvis?" He asked, relieved when the French mademoiselle in front of him began to smile and nod, passing him her luggage one by one.

"Follow me please!" Joseph added as he struggled to pick up all of her luggage and lead her inside to the butler's office studiously ignoring the guffaws and sniggers of his fellow servants as he tottered precariously from side to side, trying not to drop one of the many hatboxes she had piled into his already laden arms.

"Now that's a bit of alright!" Fred added when the pair were out of earshot, "And French to boot! We all know what they say about the French…" He trailed off nudging Will in the stomach with his elbow, and raising his eyebrow suggestively.

"Well at least Mr Jarvis speaks the lingo!" George piped up. "She'll have someone to talk to."

"She can whisper sweet nothings in my ear any time, I don't need to understand what she's saying!" Fred snorted, before turning to glare at Will who was the only footman not laughing. "Of course if you want first dibs mate, I mean we all know how you like the older woman…"

"Oh shut it Matkin!" Will snapped, glaring at his friend with such hatred that it caused Fred to stop laughing and take a step backwards.

"Alright, Alright, Willy boy I was only joking, no need to get all Prince Albert on me!" Fred replied hastily before returning to his work, and vowing there and then to give the subject of Will's love life a wide birth from now on.

Meanwhile the butler was safely ensconced in his office, enjoying for the time being a rare moment of peace and quiet. Flora was still avoiding him; he hadn't been able to get her alone for a second, the only time he had even seen her since their argument had been over meals and on the rare occasion they had passed each other in the corridors. Sighing deeply to himself he had finally realised that this time it might really be over between them, soon he would be on the other side of the globe and the likelihood of them healing their differences before he went was remote at best; it would probably require some sort of catastrophe to make her change her mind, and he was fresh out of ideas. Fingering the letter which still lay in his inside pocket he realised he had to at least try to get her alone even if that meant barging into her bedroom against her wishes and tying her to her chair so she had no choice but to hear him out.

However these musings were rudely interrupted when Joseph practically fell through the butler's door a whole pile of hat boxes and cases descending as rapidly as the footman, who ended up laying panting on the Butler's floor trying to rub life back into his aching arms.

"Mr James!" Jarvis bellowed, jumping out of his seat in shock, walking over to the footman and hauling him up off his floor by his collar of his livery.

"Excusse me, it izzzz not the juene homme's fault, 'e was just trying to 'elp moi." Bridgette piped up from the doorway, causing Jarvis to turn around in surprise.

"Mademoiselle Dubois?" Jarvis asked, and Bridgette nodded furiously her blonde curls bouncing up and down. "We weren't expecting you so soon…Lord Julian, well he didn't indicate you would be arriving forthwith…" He added quickly, stopping when he saw the confused and almost tearful look on the tiny lady's face.

"Vous comprenez q'est ca c'est j'ai dit?" He asked in French, causing Bridgette's face to light up in relief and Joseph to raise an eyebrow as this new skill of the butler's was revealed.

"Je regrette, mais m'anglais ce n'est pas bien, et c'est tres difficile pour moi quand personnes parlez vite." Bridgette replied, her pale face brightening as her cheeks flushed pink, the floodgates finally open after so many days of speaking in stuttered English and she continued to babble on in French, about how awful the trip had been. Apparently outside of London no one seemed to understand her, and she'd had a terribly miserable time trying to get to Taplows, and oh she was so relieved that at least one person here spoke French, she was so dreading it if no one did.

All the while Joseph stood next to the butler watching as Jarvis took in everything the dear lady was saying and nodded in understanding, whilst he had no idea, she could have been commenting on anything from the weather to the furnishing of the room for all he knew.

"Urgh Sir…" Joseph began when Bridgette finally paused to draw breath.

"Yes be about your business Mr James, but first take this luggage up to the lady's room, it's the one to the left of Mrs Ryan's."

"Very good Sir." Joseph replied somehow scooping up the assortment of baggage before staggering towards the door.

"Oh and Mr James!" Jarvis called out causing the footman to pause precariously in the threshold. "When you're done would you be so kind as to ask Mrs Ryan to prepare tea for an impromptu staff meeting, oh and inform Mrs Diggins as well will you, she'll want to be here!"

"Yes Mr Jarvis." Joe replied his voice emerging muffled from behind the pile of hat boxes, before he turned and left the chattering pair to it, determined that as soon as he was out of sight he'd dump the damn things and collar Johnny to take them up the three flights of stairs instead.

Sighing, exhausted, Grace makes her way down the corridor to the maid's quarters for some well earned sleep, wiping her hands on her apron as she goes. Not that jam making was as bad as shovelling coal at six o'clock in the morning, but nevertheless it still required rather a bit of energy to keep up with Mrs Ryan's demands and high standards of preserve. She muses briefly over her relationship with George – it had been going so well for so long now that she is sure something awful should befall them soon, surely it couldn't go on so blissfully forever? Since Mrs Ryan and Mr Jarvis had got together, Grace had had an idyllic image of her and George staying together for years, not necessarily at Taplows but certainly at one of the big country houses, and ending up as housekeeper and Butler respectively. Maybe, eventually, they would marry? Frank hadn't troubled her for a while, he suddenly seemed a little preoccupied with something – or someone – else, but she couldn't really care less who or what it is.

All of a sudden Grace is shaken out of her thoughts on hearing voices following her down the corridor, and turning to look over her shoulder in the direction of laughter and animated chatter she sees Joe and Charlotte approaching.

Grace wrinkling her nose, stopping in front of them and jesting: Quiet, you two, keep your voices down, it's very late you know! You don't want Mr Jarvis catching you making a racket!

Joe winking and nudging Charlotte forcefully: Nah, I think good old Mr J is fine, left him talking to the new maid, and bit of a looker she is, too!

Grace tucking loose strands of uncombed hair behind her ears and raising her eyebrows: Oh yeah, new maid? What's all this about?

Charlotte tutting and leaning against the wall: Oh keep up with the times, Gracie, can't believe you've not heard! She's French, some say Lord Julian's hired her as a 'present' for Lady Caroline, to give her a few tips in the art of love. She's a new lady's maid, you should've seen Annie's face, she was mad! Now she has to job share and go pro rata! Says she's going to look for another position….Joe stop sniggering, not that sort of position!

Joe chewing a tooth pick and grinning: Well you'd think that bonnie Annie would be able to teach Her Ladyship a thing or two, wouldn't you, from what Fred tells me!

Charlotte shooting Grace a frustrated glance: ANYWAY, she can't speak a word of English…….

Joe lowering his voice, sniggering and wagging his finger: Even still, don't go mentioning the war, you two, she may get offended!

Both maids shake their heads in confusion, but then Grace smiles and begins to chuckle as it dawns on her, much to Charlotte's dismay.

Grace: Ah indeed, October 1805 must never be mentioned! Poor girl! Oh Charlotte, keep up with the times! Trafalgar, we mean! Oh I hope Lord Dalrimple-Sykes doesn't get near her, he'll probably want to fire her out of the nearest cannon, I'm sure he's old enough to have fought at it, he must be at least 70!

Joe: Well I for one can't wait to see how she's going to coach that little madam upstairs! That's if Jarvis doesn't get there first!

Joe grabs Charlotte unexpectedly around the waist and pulls her in, causing her to yelp as he rubs her arms and squeezes her bottom, laughing at Charlotte's discomfort

Joe in an over-exaggerated French accent: Ahh oui Caroline, you 'ave ze nicest body I 'ave evur seen, madame, 'ow can Lord Jjjjulian resist you, mon petit pain!

Grace turning and walking away as Charlotte shakes his grip: 'My little loaf', monsieur? Joe, you really need to brush up on your languages, you know! And I don't quite think Lord Julian had that kind of 'hands on' behaviour in mind, Joseph, although I suppose you never know, even the gentry must have some dirty thoughts.

Charlotte, having finally managed to shake off Joe's wandering hands, leaving the footman sniggering and pointing at her, storms after Grace, slamming the door to the maid's quarters in his face after announcing loudly 'you can't come in here, Mr James!' with a superior snort. Perching herself on her bed, Charlotte continues to moan about Joe's obtrusiveness until Grace finally broaches the subject of what she may or may not be doing on her day off the following day. Charlotte, turning a little pink, mumbles something about possibly going into town but Grace, not fooled by her colleague's attempts to cover something up, moves over to her and sits next to her, grinning cheekily as if she has just worked out Charlotte's deepest, darkest secret

Charlotte raising an eyebrow at Grace, her fingers drumming on her lap: Why are you looking at me like that, Grace May?

Grace sucking in her cheeks and pouting: So, going into town then? On your own?

Charlotte shrugging, shaking Grace's gaze and staring at the ceiling: Maybe, maybe not. Not that it's any of your business what I do on my day off, I never ask you, not that I have to ask of course!

Grace cocking her head to the side and sniffing out a laugh: Well, well, Charlotte Lewis, are you walking out with him then? The nice Doctor Evans?

Charlotte turning scarlet and busying herself with her hair: It's just one afternoon, we're going to see the ducks, I'm not 'walking out' with him Grace, you make it sound breathing in deeply and flopping back: Well, he is rather dashing, and you could do worse. I'm jealous in a way, but you must tell me all about it!

Charlotte who can't help but return her smile, her voice quiet: Yes, he's lovely. He really is.

After a rather delightful discussion with the petit Bridgette about her journey, Jarvis had shown her up to the door of her room, explaining in the most fluent of French that the staff at Taplows are a friendly bunch and would, he was sure, befriend her and treat her as one of their own in no time, even if they couldn't understand a word she said. He had told her not to worry, he and the chef Mr Kraus would translate as much as possible, but the next day she should introduce herself to the housekeeper after morning prayers, with his help, of course. Smiling softly, Bridgette had thanked him for his kind help, and Jarvis couldn't help but feel like he had done a good deed, being so helpful, considering that his dark mood had never left him since being unable to find Flora. She had been avoiding him, damn it, and it was high time he went and found her, worried his regret at his behaviour would turn to animosity if she continued to ignore him.

After Bidding a weary Bridgette goodnight, with a polite smile and a slight nod of the head, Jarvis strides purposefully away, glancing at his pocket watch. Grunting, he snaps the lid shut and shoves it back into his pocket. If Flora thinks the lateness of the hour will stop him from seeing her for another night then she most definitely has another thing coming, he fumes, but as he climbs the stairs to her door, he suddenly feels more nervous than he had done for a long time. Breathing in deeply, the butler pulls out the envelope and flips it between his fingers, glancing from it to her door, wondering for a moment whether she would be asleep at this time, or whether she is sitting up in front of the fire, hugging her cushion, her hair draped around her shoulders and framing her beautiful, flawless face. Concealing the envelope once again its hiding place of his jacket pocket, Jarvis knocks lightly on the door, expecting a confused housekeeper to open it ajar and demand to know what part of her life he wanted to ruin now, but no reply is forthcoming. Angry at himself for feeling frustrated about this, Jarvis turns to leave, to go back to his room to mull over his annoyance, but just as he is about to make his weary retreat, something stops him and he pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at the door. Before he could think about it, he holds his breath and tries her door handle, and he pushes the door open firmly but quietly, stopping in the doorway. Sure enough, Flora's fire is burning bright, but as he moves round he can see her, as he predicted, clutching her cushion for dear life, but fast asleep, her head leaning against the back of her chair and her chest falling and rising gently.

Studying her carefully, Jarvis steps closer, his heart beating hard in his chest, his nerves shredded after building himself up to confronting her since their last, disastrous encounter. He resists the urge to reach out and run his fingers down her face, the last thing he wants is to give her a shock, but feeling there is no harm in watching he smiles gently to himself as he takes her in, her body for once not tied up in her corset but free under her nightgown, he only curses that her robe is wrapped around her so tightly and her cushion in her lap, obstructing a clearer view. The light from the fire flickers shadows across Flora's face, her expression peaceful and almost happy. Maybe, thinks Jarvis, she is dreaming about life away from Taplows, how it could be for her if she were to break free from him, maybe forever. He wouldn't blame her if she hated him and his selfishness now, how could he have not seen what burning the letter would do to her? Shaking his head, he fishes into his pocket and smoothes out the crumpled envelope, placing it on her fireside table next to a book - the Italy book. Smiling wistfully, Jarvis picks it up and flicks through it, noticing that its spine is looking a little worn from plenty of keen reading. Other than that it is in pristine condition, and Jarvis is slightly surprised that she still has it out, rather than it being stashed on her bookshelf gathering dust. But then again, why should he be surprised, she had always seem fascinated by it, but whether that was because he had bought it for her, he isn't quite sure. Placing it carefully back on the table, exactly where she had left it, he pats the envelope as if he is reassuring it that Flora will accept its contents, before glancing back at her for one last look, not knowing whether this would be the very last time he would ever see Flora sleep. 'I love you' he mutters quietly, the tears beginning to spring to his eyes, 'I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me'.

You coward, a voice inside him suddenly frets, why don't you wake her and tell her face to face? Stop just standing there like a great sour pudding, as Mr Adams would say, and wake her up! Of course, he has no real intention of doing so, no matter how much his heart is screaming at him. As he sniffs back the tears, Flora moves slightly, shifting herself round and nuzzling her cushion, and Jarvis can't help but wish to high heaven that she was nuzzling him instead. Leaning forward, the butler places a small, soft kiss on her forehead, breathing in her scent as he brushes the hair away gently. Flora however doesn't stir, and he straightens up, his body gripped with the draining emotion of the moment.

With one last sorrowful glance, Jarvis bites his lip, the lump growing in his throat, and opens the door slowly, stepping out and shutting it as silently as possible behind him. He hovers by the closed door for a moment, not wanting to leave go of the door handle, but in the end sense prevails and he sighs, reluctantly leaving Flora to her slumber and her peaceful dreaming. Or so he presumes.

As soon as Flora hears the door close, she breathes a sigh of relief. She had thought he'd never leave, not that she had wanted him to, not really, not in her heart. She had thought about pretending to wake up – she had only been dozing lightly, the warmth of the fire making her feel slightly drowsy, but when he had knocked she just couldn't bring herself to invite him in. Nobody else, apart from maybe Felix, would have knocked on her bedroom door so late, so she had gambled on her feeling that it had been Walter. She cursed her own cowardice, how she had been avoiding him, but she just couldn't face his harsh, condemning words, that look of disappointment in her masked by fury in his eyes, not tonight. But his tenderness had surprised her, and she had felt a surge of warmth, and guilt, flow through her when he had whispered his love for her. Whether he would have said that if she had been awake she isn't sure she will ever know, but it had almost moved her to tears, although she is pleased that it hadn't as it would have most definitely blown her cover.

Opening her eyes and sitting forward, a look of confusion and sadness spreading across her face, she places the cushion on her lap. Blinking, it takes a moment for her sight to adjust to the soft light in the room, but eventually her gaze falls on the envelope on the table.

Exhaling a little whimper of surprise, the housekeeper tentatively reaches over and picks it up, staring at it in confusion until her curiosity gets the better of her and she rips at the seal, pulling out the contents eagerly. But what she finds makes her gasp in surprise. She had expected a letter, one from Walter giving her another ultimatum, maybe his kiss had been his last to her, a final gesture before ending their relationship for good, and his sorrowful declaration of love had been in spite of their doomed affair. But there isn't a letter, but a cheque, made out to her, for the sum of……glancing, startled, up at the wall, as if the portrait of former housekeeper Mrs Crouch had suddenly called out her name, she lowers the cheque to her lap and begins to breathe heavily. For a minute all she can do is let her mind swirl with emotion, until she almost reluctantly looks back down at the cheque. Attached is a small note, in Walter's hand, and all it reads is 'Go live a little. You will be forever in my heart, your loving Walter.'

She reads those two sentences over and over until she can't read them any more, her vision is too blurred for the tears pooling in her eyes. 'Oh, Walter,' she sniffs quietly to herself, placing the cheque back in the envelope and flopping back into her chair 'what have I done?'

Next morning the staff assembled obediently in the lower Servants hall, and Mrs Ryan paced up and down inspecting each of her maids, making sure each wore a clean apron and was neat and respectable before the Earl arrived for morning prayers. However in reality her thoughts were a million miles away, she had spent most of the night thinking about her and Walter and what his cheque symbolised. Was he trying to tell her it was all over, and so was giving her the money so she would leave and never trouble him again, or was it meant so she go travelling with Mrs Harrison and he would be waiting for her when she returned, dammit why did he always have to be so vague?

She had intended to corner him before breakfast and demand an explanation, but due to staying up late she had for the first time ever overslept and so had missed the meal completely. Mentally reproaching herself for such a slip in standards, she had decided to talk to him after morning prayers, possibly take along some tea and cake so he realised she was no longer as angry with him as she was a few days ago. However she was quickly jarred from these thoughts when her maids all erupted into a fit of giggles, whirling round she locked her gaze on the tittering Lizzie and Grace May.

"Would you care to share what is so amusing?"

"Oh it's nothing Mrs Ryan…" Lizzie began, but she was unable to finish her sentence as on catching Grace's eye she burst out laughing once more.

"It doesn't sound like nothing?" Flora replied for once intrigued.

"Oh we can tell Mrs Ryan Lizzie." Grace cut in. "You see Charlotte is walking out with our young dashing Doctor Evans this afternoon, and this morning she woke us all up in a panic…"

"That's right" Lizzie cut in. "She was all worked up because she didn't know what on earth they were supposed to talk about, after all he's this educated man, and well she's only a simple housemaid."

"Look Lizzie who's telling this?" Grace snapped at her friend causing her to fall silent. "Well I mentioned if she's so worried about saying the wrong thing then perhaps it would be better not to talk at all. And she replied but if we don't talk what will we do all afternoon?" Grace stopped, as she began to snort uncontrollably with laughter, waving her friend to finish telling the story.

"Yes as Grace was saying," Lizzie began. "She genuinely didn't understand what Grace was hinting at and so she just stood staring at us dumbly a look of confusion on her face whilst we all cracked up, standing there asking us 'what's so funny?'. Until suddenly she realised, oh I've never seen someone go so red so quickly, she got all uppity with us then and sulky. Then Grace…" Lizzie trailed off sniggering.

"Then Grace what?" Mrs Ryan asked the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement.

"Grace suggested if Charlotte wanted to learn how to make a good impression on a man the best person to ask was probably the new French lady's maid."

"New lady's maid?" Flora asked her confusion mounting as the two maids both nodded, before Lizzie continued with her story.

"After all French women are notorious…. But than Charlotte retorted that even if she did ask she'd never understand a word the woman said anyway….And Grace…"

"I remarked that well she could always demonstrate, after all actions speak louder than words." Grace added finally after regaining control for a few seconds, before all three women burst out laughing.

"Settle down, Take your places!" Jarvis's voice bellowed through the hall, causing the three women to quieten immediately and Flora to stalk to the front to stand with the rest of the senior staff, catching Walter's eye for a moment as she went and being unable to keep the barely contained mirth from her expression. This earned a puzzled glance from the butler, to which she responded by mouthing 'later' before taking her place to his left for the prayers.

A few minutes later and the assembled group broke up each member of staff going about his or her business, Jarvis paused for a moment before turning to the housekeeper unsure about how to start the conversation, so instead taking her elbow and escorting her out of the hall and down the corridor. When they reached her office he released her grudgingly, and began to walk away to his office only to be called back by Flora.

"Mr Jarvis."

"Mrs Ryan." He countered.

"I understand we have a new lady's maid." Flora began.

"Yes a Mademoiselle Dubois." Jarvis replied, "I instructed her to introduce herself to you this morning, but you weren't around…." He trailed off unable to comment on her absence without sounding as if he was reprimanding her.

"I know I was late, I overslept, I'm sorry but I will be delighted to make her acquaintance at some point this morning."

"Yes well her English still needs work, I've offered to teach her but it will take some time so if you have any problems please let me know and I will endeavour to provide the necessary bridge, so to speak." He replied still unable to hold her gaze, as his eyes flickered from one side of the corridor to the other and so missing the pleading expression in Flora's eyes.

"I was wondering…I was hoping we might have a chance to speak this morning." Flora began. "After all there is so much to discuss, now the Earl will be getting his money back we have hordes of new staff to appoint amongst other things…" Finally catching his gaze and holding it. "We do need to talk!" She added as she stepped tentatively towards him, laying her hand on his arm gently.

For a moment Jarvis simply stared at her, unable to believe the expression of warmth in her expression, before glancing downwards at where her hand still lay, his skin prickling at the sensation of her touch even through his shirt and jacket. Before lifting his other hand and laying it softly atop hers, squeezing it gently. "Half an hour in my office?" He asked, his deep voice cracking slightly with emotion, managing somehow to smile slightly when she nodded her acquiescence.

"In half and hour then." Flora whispered softly, leaning forward and kissing him quickly and softly on the cheek before turning and disappearing into her office leaving a stunned and emotionally shaken butler to gaze longingly after her.

The half an hour between the end of prayers and her appointment with Walter dragged slowly, determined to keep herself busy Flora made her way to the kitchen, and carefully avoiding a delicate conversation with Felix by waiting till he was out the room before entering she began to put together a tea tray. Smiling naughtily to herself she dashed into the pastry to see what culinary delights the chef had prepared that morning, well surely no one would notice if a few slices of his exquisite lemon cake went missing. So quickly she cut two slices and placed them gingerly on a nearby plate, before caving in and cutting Walter another; well it was his favourite after all. Placing the plate on her tray she checked to see if the tea was steeping properly before seizing it firmly and heading off towards the butler's office.

Meanwhile Jarvis was sat behind his desk, his big book of figures open in front of him but his mind far from the calculations that needed performing, in a few minutes Flora would be here and he still had no idea what he was going to say. However his silent ponderings were soon cut short when his office door was flung open and an hysterical Bridgette staggered towards him.

Immediately concerned he rose from his seat, "What's the matter?" He began but his words were soon cut off when the diminutive lady flung her arms around him and began to sob wholeheartedly against his chest. Unsure about what he should do in this situation Jarvis patted her awkwardly on the back, making soothing noises, but at the same time looking completely bewildered as to what he should be doing about it.

"She is 'orrible…" Bridgette managed to gasp out. "So… what is the word?... nose of caramel…"

"Toffee-Nosed?" Jarvis asked bemused, by Bridgette mangling of the English language.

"Yes she has the manners of un animal, un cochon." She added, wiping at her tears and brushing her hair away from her face. " Crier à tue-tête à moi, and …how do you say ? Throwing her brosse du cheveu à moi, aussi ! "

"She threw her hair brush at you?" Jarvis asked astounded.

"Oui!" Bridgette replied, brushing her hair away from her face to show him the now fading read mark that was visible under her blond ringlets. "Regarder!" She added, as Jarvis seized her chin to angle her head so he could better examine the red mark which was slowly fading, leaning down he brushed her hair away from obstructing his view.

However it was at this precise moment Flora made her entrance, pushing wider the already open door she stopped dead in the doorway an look of horror and disbelief on her face, as she spotted the pretty new maid locked in Walter's embrace, him tenderly brushing her hair from her face as he had often done with her. How could he? In broad daylight embracing another, when he knew darn well she was on her way? For a moment her hands shook and she felt sure she would drop the tray so she quickly backed out of the room before the pair spotted her presence, and shaking made her way back to her own office.

Closing the door firmly behind her she put the tray down carefully on the table before sinking down despondently into her chair. In that moment she realised the real the reason for the cheque, he hadn't meant it as conciliatory gesture it had been a parting gift, a last token of his affection. Once months ago now he had told her if she wouldn't give him what he wanted he would one day move on and try and find someone who would; at the time she hadn't believed him but now it seemed as if he had done just as he said he would. Shaking slightly Flora wrapped her arms around her waist hugging herself protectively, the feelings of despair and nausea both fighting for supremacy as she leant her spinning head against the cool surface of her desk.

She sat like this for a few minutes her turbulent emotions swinging from the depths of despair to blind fury and back again. How dare he treat her like this, as though she meant nothing? One minute claiming to love her so faithfully the next putting her aside like yesterday's garbage when some one younger and some might say prettier comes along. It's because she's younger, plenty of time for a family with her, unlike poor aging Flora who couldn't even keep hold of the one child she somehow managed to conceive. That's why he asked her to forgive him last night, not because of the incident with the letter but because of what he had begun with that French hussy, and he was giving her money so she could leave them to it.

Shaking slightly Flora drew out the letter she had received that morning, she had wanted to talk this over with Walter first before deciding, but damnit he had made it perfectly clear she was surplus to requirements here. Shaking she began to reply to her friend's letter, she would be delighted to meet her in London in a months time, in fact the whole prospect of another month at Taplows now felt less than appealing. They would Christmas in London and then set sail in the New Year for the continent, where with any luck she could put any thoughts of Walter Corey firmly behind her.

Pausing outside the drawing room, the scheming valet smiled. For Frank, it all seems far too easy. Far too easy indeed. That bit of posh is putty in his hands and it is all going even better than he had planned. She couldn't have broken up with that past-it under-butler a day too soon, and now, well, he is running his own agenda, although he is shrewd enough to know he needs to stay well away from Adams for the time being, he would deal with him later. Thank the Lord for heart attacks! That ugly trollop Lady Hamilton-Hussey will only hear what he wants her to hear from now on, she may think that she's clever but she's just as stupid as the rest of them. Oh yes, Mr Frank Keneally will get his bit of fun and be paid handsomely for it by a gullible aristo, just to make it all the better - the metaphorical thick white icing on one of Kraus' fine cakes.

After a chuckle to himself, Frank entered the drawing room to see Franny stood by the window, looking out and up at the clear, wintry sky, a sour expression on her podgy face. She swings round and her gaze locks on Frank, her cold, piercing green eyes darting about him as she raises her eyebrows questioningly.

Franny forcing a hollow smile, her voice laden with sarcasm: Well, nice of you to finally report back to me, Mr Keneally. I give you a whole pile of notes and that's the last I see of you all night, I hope it was worth my wait!

Frank closes in on her. He is well aware that secretly Franny desires him in her own perverse way and, repulsion aside, he can very much see how this could be used to keep her sweet. Snorting, he swings past her and throws himself into a chair - the Earl's favourite no less - and lay back in it, smirking as he folds his arms over his chest leaving Lady Francesca to stare at him disconcertingly until her one-sided sexual tension turns to blind rage. Her face grows redder as the valet raises his right leg and rests his ankle on his left knee

Franny her voice sharp and shrill: Mr Keneally, I don't remember asking you to sit down! Don't you go forgetting your position in this household, and your reputation is at stake now remember!

Frank shrugging, placing his hands behind his head so his elbows protrude: Oh, they don't like me round here, Lady F, I'm a good-for-nothing, just you ask old Jarvis. So not much of a reputation to ruin there. And anyway this chair's comfortable, no wonder that silly old sod likes it so much, anything to make his life just that little bit better than it already is.

Franny clicking her tongue and glancing at the door worriedly: Well, come on then, have you got any news or not? I don't pay you to lounge in chairs not fit for your dirty backside, Mr Keneally, so hurry it up and spit it out!

Sighing, Frank decides to take his own sweet time in relaying his information - if she had bothered to go and see her sister then she would probably have found out herself without having to pay out a small fortune to an opportunistic servant. Suddenly Frank smacks his lips together and leans forward from his very casual position in the chair, snatching up a fondant fancy from a silver tray placed on a round Georgian table just in front of him. Franny lets out a little gasp as Frank stuffs the whole cake into his mouth and brushes the crumbs off his trousers and onto the thick, heavily patterned carpet.

Frank gesturing to his mouth, his cheeks over-laden and voice muffled: Oh sorry, you don't mind, do you? Haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm starving! Ooh, this was delicious, do you mind if I have another? Oh and pour us a cup of tea there would you, me darlin', I'm parched.

But before Frank can scoop another pink and white delight off the tray, Franny snatches him up by his collar and drags him out of the chair, pulling him towards her and Frank stares at her in shock

Franny gritting her teeth: Look, I'm stronger than you think Mr Keneally, now tell me what has been going on or you won't get another penny from me, DO YOU UNDERSTAND! I will not put up with your insolence, you're a God-damn servant, not my husband! Not that I'll put up with it from him either!

Frank pushes away from her, brushing down his jacket and smoothening his collar, a look of annoyance on his face from having the wind knocked so severely out of his sails. Harrumphing, he reluctantly begins to tell her what he considers to be the vague truth

Frank without an ounce of sympathy in his voice: Adams has ended it. I saw Lady Rebecca last night and it took all my efforts to console her, he says he doesn't love her any more. So that's basically the long and short of it. And before you ask, yes I spoke to Adams, and he confirmed it. I won't repeat to you what he called her, a lady of your delicate frame could hardly take it, but it had something to do with her flirting outrageously with some of the grounds staff.

Franny shaking her head in disbelief, lowering herself onto the settee, her skirts billowing around her: But...but I don't understand it, she was all for leaving us - leaving father - to run away with him. She threatened to, said they loved each other...

Frank shrugging: Ah, well, it's funny isn't it, you think you know someone, when in fact, they're not what they seem at all. I for one couldn't see it lasting, a girl like her. I don't mean to be rude about your sister, Lady Francesca, but really, she does seem to like her men.

Franny leaping up and pacing the room, her anger returning as her dress rustles furiously: I should have known it! I bet he couldn't keep his bloody pants on either, off with some other servant girl I expect!

Frank looking at Franny quizzically: So, is my work here done? Or is there more to be discovered, do you think?

Franny purses her lips and laughs quietly but wickedly, sauntering up to the valet and staring him straight in the eye, a calculated look on her face. Not for the first time, Frank feels a little intimidated by her, but stands tall none the less and returns the stare.

Franny smoothening down Frank's collar, her voice suddenly seductive: Oh there's always more, Mr Keneally, my you are naïve. She's at her most vulnerable now, remember, all those tears, so much comfort for you yet to give, my boy. Go to her, find out more about the argument, I want to know everything.

Frank: And why do you want to know everything, eh? You never have told me what it is you're going to do.

Franny letting out a distaining snort: And as I've said, that's none of your business! Your business is what I tell you it is, but I'll tell you this, by the time you and me are done, she's going to be ruined - I'm not going to be in her shadow for much longer, that's for sure.

You wouldn't damn well fit in her shadow, Frank thinks with a mental laugh, but just as he is about to leave, Franny steps in front of him and leans in – Frank could swear she is pushing her chest out more than usual, but not really wanting to focus much on that particular area blinks as Lady Hamilton-Hussey grabs his wrist

Franny glancing around the room as if someone may have materialised and is listening in: Lord Hamilton-Hussey is in Bristol on business tonight, so when you've seen Rebecca and Lord Julian has dismissed you come to my room, it's the safest place away from prying eyes. You can tell me what she said and I'll pay you more money.

Frank a frosty smirk spreading across his face as he exits: Oh, I know you will.

The rest of the day dragged on, the sun hiding lazily behind gathering clouds and causing wintry darkness to descend on Taplows. But the mood inside made the weather seem positively Mediterranean, as Flora flew around the house bellowing her orders and spending a great deal of time and energy avoiding Jarvis as best she could. Woefully she resigned herself to the fact that this is now a regular occurrence, only stopping briefly to glance at him down the corridor, watching him silently as he reprimanded George for not polishing his shoes correctly, then disappearing quickly before he can notice her.

Outside, a coach pulls up to the gates of the courtyard. It is approaching 4.30 and already the sun has set and twilight has turned to pitch, an owl hooting quietly in the distance. A cloaked figure jumps out of the carriage and trots around to the other side, flinging open the door and helping a lady out onto the cobbles. For a minute, both say nothing but stare sheepishly at each other, one of the many awkward moments that had taken place between them throughout the day, but nevertheless the two are far more comfortable in each other's company than it would first appear

Charlotte blushing in the darkness and lowering her eyes: Well, thank you, for such a lovely day, your cooking rivals that of our chef here, and the ducks in the park were….well…..

Evans smiling warmly: Feathery?

Charlotte giggling rather more girlishly than she would have liked: Yes, that's the right word. I just love their little beaks, all yellow and, well, er, long?

Evans, grinning more broadly, begins to make a duck beak with his hand by his mouth and make quacking noises, pecking at Charlotte's nose playfully until the two of them can't contain their laughter any longer at the stupidity of the conversation. The day had been full of such silly discussions and both had realised quite quickly that there seemed to be no end to them, and it has finally boiled over into hysterics. After calming themselves, Charlotte's usually pale cheeks even more flushed than they had been the whole day, Dr Evans gazes into her sparkling blue eyes and taking her hands raises them to his lips

Evans not taking his eyes from hers, his voice low and soothing: Charlotte Lewis, you are fascinating. And beautiful.

Charlotte biting her bottom lip and staring down into the darkness of the cobbles: Dr Evans, I wouldn't say either of those things about me, you are too kind.

Evans lowering his head to try to recapture her stare: No, not at all, I never say anything I don't mean, one can't when one is a doctor. You're intelligent and extremely striking, Miss Lewis, I can't deny it.

Charlotte drawing away from him slightly: Oh don't be daft, what do I know? I don't really have opinions on things, well not educated ones anyway, not like you Dr Evans, and I've got a silly sense of humour, I mean, I'm hardly a wit like you, I just laugh at duck beaks, and well I'm only a maid, why would you want to go on seeing someone like me, I'm not sophisticated like a lot of the ladies you must see from day to day, in your circles, and I……..

But she is unable to finish her incredibly long and rambling sentence as the doctor leans forward and captures her lips with his own, gently wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her up. For only a split second Charlotte considers pulling away, but she rapidly changes her mind when she realises that all the will in the world can't force her away from him, her first real kiss with a man whom she knows she could very easily grow to love. Holding her breath in surprise she closes her eyes and kisses him back rather more passionately than even the doctor had presumed to do until finally after a long, lingering moment they part for air and Charlotte blushes again furiously.

Evans his dashing features creasing into a frown: Oh, Miss Lewis, I'm so sorry, I overstepped the mark, it being our first outing together, I shouldn't have…….

But Charlotte, before she could even think about what she is doing, leans up and kisses him softly again, brushing her gloved hand up the side of his face before pulling away but keeping her face very close to his. They gaze into each other's eyes, their hands entwining, before Evans smiles at her and kisses her cold nose gently

Evans opening the gate for her: Thank you for such a spellbinding day, Miss Lewis. Charlotte. Now you should go inside before you catch cold, and I know all about THEM! I hope it is not too presumptive of me, or too brash, but could I see you again?

Charlotte moving reluctantly away from him, a loving smile across her lips: No, it certainly isn't presumptive of you, Dr Evans. I would love to……ehem…I would very much enjoy another acquaintance with you, sir. But my day off isn't until the end of next month.

Evans shrugging and grinning: Then I shall wait. I would wait until the end of time for you, Miss Lewis.

Charlotte giggling and putting her fingers to her lips: Well, I do have an evening off in a week or so, I think 13th, so maybe we could do something?

Evans tipping his hat and bowing slightly: I shall look forward to it, but for now I bid you goodnight.

Charlotte smiles and waves as he climbs back into his carriage and indicates for the coachman to leave. Sighing, she turns to the gates, glancing up at the grand building and wondering for a moment what it would be like to get away from here and live life as near to a lady's as possible with a man as wonderful, kind and gentle as Dr Evans. Nobody had ever treated her like he had treated her that day, he made her feel special, feel individual and wanted, and if love could blossom from that then what an added joy that would be. Maybe she loves him already, she isn't sure, is that what love feels like? Grace would know, surely. Laughing softly to herself, she rubs her hands together in the cold, and closing the gate behind her makes her way back to the house, a slight spring in her dainty step.

That evening Flora Ryan barely touched her supper. She had been brave and had decided the only way to deal with the emerging situation between Walter and Bridgette was to face it head on, so that meant going to dinner. Sitting at her end of the table she pushed her food around on her plate, every few seconds glancing up at the other end of the table where a certain foursome were keeping the rest of the table amused. It seemed somehow prophetic how quickly she had been replaced; Bridgette sat to Walter's right, chattering away in her strange French/English hybrid, every few minutes touching his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. Apparently some of her translations were highly amusing and as a result had Walter, Emily and Felix in stitches. Blinking back the tears that threatened, Flora could only nod her acknowledgement when Mrs Diggins asked her a question, her thoughts far from her stilted conversation with the ladies maid.

Even Felix and Emily seemed delighted by the new turn of events, and as a result the tense atmosphere between the Chef and Butler seemed somewhat lessoned in the French Maid's presence. Laying her fork down on her barely touched plate, Flora picked up her napkin and dabbed daintily at the corners of her mouth, glancing back up she felt eyes on her, and for a moment her gaze locked with the new maid's, who smiled broadly at her. Stunned and shaken by the woman's audacity Flora laid her napkin down and stood up to leave, causing everyone to turn and their eyes to lock on her. "Excuse me, I'm not feeling well, I think I'll retire now." Flora added her hands trembling slightly as she turned and practically fled from the room.

Jarvis sat and stared after her, he just didn't know what was wrong with her today. This morning it had seemed things were getting better, she had been openly warm towards him and had arranged to meet him to talk things over but then she had never turned up and he had spent the rest of the day chasing her wake. He had hoped that after dinner they would have a chance to speak, but as he watched her during the meal withdraw further and further into herself this nagging feeling turned more and more to serious concern. She wasn't eating again, she barely spoke at all during the meal, and she didn't even look at him preferring to stare at her untouched plate. In fact he had spent so much time lost in thought, gazing at the housekeeper, he kept missing questions Bridgette was asking him, causing her to touch his arm in order to bring him back to reality long enough to answer her question, the rest of the time he simply got by by laughing whenever anyone else laughed, even if he had no idea what it was about.

Sighing to himself as he tucked into the dessert that now lay invitingly in front of him, he was going to have to find out what had gone wrong in that half an hour between their discussion in the corridor and their missed appointment in his office. Finally the meal drew to a close and people started to drift off and he was drawn out of his silent reverie by Bridgette who was patting his arm sympathetically. Shaking off his melancholy he stood up and offering her his arm escorted her out of the dining room, when they were almost at his office, Bridgette suddenly spoke.

"Ahhh c'est curious!" She whispered almost to herself.

"What's curious?" Jarvis asked.

"I thought Madame Ryan was….how do you say..mal?"

"Ill." Jarvis replied to which Bridgette nodded furiously.

"Oui, mais when we passed zz scullery I could have sworn…mais Je dois avoir été erroné. "

"You may have been mistaken, why what did you see?" Jarvis asked genuinely confused.

"I could of sworn it was her, Madame Ryan, Mais c'est impossible, if she is ill then she would be at her bed by now, oui?" Bridgette replied genuinely confused.

"Well that depends…" Jarvis trailed off his anger at Flora's childish behaviour mounting as he turned and stormed back in the direction of the scullery, the petite maid struggling to keep up with his giant strides.

Storming into the scullery Jarvis slammed the door open wide causing it to crash loudly against the wall causing the housekeeper to jump with fright dropping the clean sheets that she had been folding to put away.

"Mrs Ryan!" Jarvis snorted. "I thought you were unwell?"

"Yes, I was…I…Well I…" Flora began her mouth opening and shutting like a fish with few words managing to escape. "Yes?" Jarvis asked sarcastically as Bridgette finally arrived and immediately dashed forward to help the housekeeper gather her linen from the floor.

"I started to feel better, all I needed was some fresh air, and then I remembered I hadn't finished this task…" She trailed off snatching the sheets a little too forcefully from the maid as she straightened up, unwilling to look either of them in the face.

"Well if that is the case I expect to see you in my office forth with, and no dilly dallying to attend to other unfinished jobs on your way!" Jarvis added, his face flushed with anger and frustration as he turned leaving the two women alone in the scullery.

Struggling to control her own emotions Flora turned her attention to the task at hand, steadfastly ignoring all of Bridgette's attempts to help her. Seemingly oblivious to the housekeepers dark mood and in particular her new found loathing of the French in particular Bridgette started to prattle on.

"Oh your Monsieur Jarvis, is a fine gentle homme, he was so kind to me when I first arrived, no one else seemed to understand a word I spoked to them but he has been so 'elpful so welcoming. I was so worried I would not find myself a special friend en Anglaterre, c'etait bien to be proved wrong, ne c'est pas ? You know on zz first night I was 'ere he even took me to bed!" Bridgette stated, causing the confused housekeeper to stare at her in shock, and Bridgette to continue in her mangled English in order to explain.

"I 'ad 'eard that zz English homme, was reserved et serious mais Monsieur Jarvis is zz very opposite he 'as an amorous nature, do you not think, after all I understand you know him better than anybody else, I suppose zat in time we will get to be as close…" Bridgette trailed off smiling to herself and so missing the pained expression on the housekeepers face.

"Yes I'm sure you'll find some way to manage it!" Flora hissed unpleasantly, causing Bridgette to glance up at her as if looking at her for the first time.

"Oh 'ave I said something wrong, its is my English, ce n'est pas bien." She asked.

"Oh no." Flora replied. "I think I got your meaning loud and clear, now if you'll excuse me I have some final business to attend to."

"But of course you must not keep Monsieur waiting, after all I 'ave only been here the few days but even I know how demanding he can be about timing, you must come when he tells you to do so or not at all!"

Now scarlet and visibly shaking at the woman's level of brazenness and insensitivity Flora strode out of the room, towards the butlers office determined to give him a piece of her mind, and tell him the good news.

Flinging the door to his office wide open so it to slammed loudly against the wall, Flora stormed over to the butler who was standing by the fireplace, carefully stoking the flames before jumping slightly at her sudden and violent intrusion.

"What's the matter you seem so nervous, not burning anymore mail tonight are we? Perhaps you don't approve of my corresponding with the grocer or draper; worried I might be having some affair behind your back and will run off at a moments notice."

"Flora you're being ridiculous!" Jarvis snapped, leaning the poker against the fireplace and walking over to her.

"So now I'm not only a stupid woman who needs controlling I'm also ridiculous?" Flora retorted.

"Oh for god's teeth woman you know I didn't mean it like that, it's just today you've been…" He trailed off, unsure about how to extricate himself from this hole.

"Today I've been what Walter? Hmm? How have I been?" Flora asked, her eyes hard and cold as flint.

"You've been acting like a child, one moment skittish and flitting off here and there the next, well the next I would swear you were sulking!" Jarvis replied his own temper rising as he thought how unreasonable she was being, what on earth had he done wrong now?

"Oh so I'm a child, I suppose that's why you've gone off and found yourself a more adult playmate?" Flora hissed her cheeks flushing as her jealous temper got the better of her.

"Well she speaks a lot more sense, even with her garbled English than you are doing at the moment, quit talking in riddles and tell me what this is about?" Jarvis retorted closing the distance between them and finding it difficult to resist the urge to seize her shoulders and shake some sense into her before pulling her close.

"Riddles, oh I think the only subterfuge going on here is if your own making! Did you really think I wouldn't find out eventually, or we you planning on letting me find out just to get some sadistic satisfaction out of rubbing my nose in it?"

Then when Walter's expression of confusion didn't change to that of obvious guilt Flora continued. "You and your new conquest!" Flora ranted at him whilst beating her fists against his chest.

"Oh please we're just friends, any idiot could see that!" Exasperated Jarvis caught her wrists, and held them securely no matter how hard she tried to claw herself free. "God dammit you wild Cat, sheath your claws or will personally declaw you." Jarvis hissed in her ear, before turning them both round and pushing her back down into his desk chair.

For a moment Flora stopped struggling and convinced she was now going to cooperate Jarvis let her go, however as soon as he did Flora was up out of the chair and half way to the door. Turning on his heel Jarvis leapt forward and seized her firmly by the waist dragged her back, despite her best efforts to make him let her go. Determined not to be controlled Flora stamped down hard on one of Walter's feet causing him to immediately recoil in pain lifting his damaged foot off the floor and immediately unbalancing him so he went crashing forward into her knocking them both on to the floor in front of the fire.

Pinned down by the sheer weight of the butler Flora could only struggle futilely until Jarvis lifted some of his weight off of her, but just as she was about to brush him aside and get up, Walter seized her arm and violently tugged her over onto her back, his hands reaching up to seize her wrists as his mouth descended hungrily onto hers. Unable to push him away Flora stopped struggling and returned his kiss passionately, with a wild abandon she had rarely exhibited, for a moment they both battled for supremacy until reluctantly Flora surrendered to him completely.

Realising his victory was secured Walter released her wrists, and her hands instinctively wound their way up over his neck and into his hair pulling him closer. Returning the favour Walter's hands moved to her hair, tugging at the pins that her held her long dark curls captive before running his fingers through her soft tresses. Growling slightly and unwillingly to relinquish her lips for a second Walter began to tug at the fastenings of her dress, frowning in exasperation when they refused to cooperate. Frustrated by this turn of events and anxious to move proceedings along he began to pull harder until suddenly instead off the fastening giving way he heard the unmistakable sound of ripping fabric.

However just as he was about to capitalise on this, the relative silence of the servants quarters was shattered by the clanging of one of the servant's bells, and Jarvis knew without having to go and check it was that of the Earls study. Which could only mean one thing; the Earl wanted to go over tonight as he had done every night recently the progress of the preparations for their trip to India. Swearing under his breath Jarvis rolled off of the panting Flora, trying desperately to regain some semblance control, but failing miserably as he watched the housekeeper trying frantically to find some way to fasten her now ruined dress. Getting to his feet he offered his hands to help her up, but she waved them aside and began to quickly walk towards the door, not once glancing in his direction. Fearing he may have gone too far Jarvis followed her along the corridor and as she turned to go up the staircase to the third floor bedrooms he caught her elbow, anchoring her gently but firmly to the spot.

"Wait up for me, leave your door unlocked, this shouldn't take too long you know his lordship a large brandy and some reassurance and he'll be happy as a pig in swill, and then we can talk…" He added.

"Talk?" Flora asked her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she raised an eyebrow to punctuate her disbelief.

"Alright not just talk…. but we will… before or after well that's up to you, but we need to sort this out Flora or it'll tear us both up inside." Jarvis replied.

Harrumphing her scepticism Flora tried to pull out of his grip but the Butler was not finished just yet, stepping up beside her onto the first step of the staircase, he threaded his arms around her waist and glancing quickly over his shoulder pulled her against him for another passionate kiss and embrace. Jarvis lingered longer than he should luxuriating in the feel of her in his arms, gently tracing and caressing the curves of her body, only pulling away when he could hear in the distance the not so delicate sound of Frederick Matkin running hell for leather to fetch the absent butler.

"Wait for me!" Jarvis begged, his feelings of anxiety somewhat lessoned when he caught the hungry almost predatory look in her eyes, and automatically leaning back in to kiss her briefly but ardently, before turning and leaving. Only pausing for a moment to call back over his shoulder, "Promise me Flora", but already the housekeeper was dashing up the stairs to the relative safety of her room.

After over an hour with the Earl, Jarvis emerges far more agitated than when he had gone in, having been frustrated by His Lordship's desire to go through every single detail of the trip, all apart from the food about which he would inevitably call in chef to shout his orders at over 'all that foreign rubbish' staying off the menu. He doubts very much that Flora is prepared and waiting for him on her bed, but he vows he will sure as hell insist she listens, whether he has his way with her or not. Storming along the corridor his fixed expression of fury hardens further as his glare falls on Frank Keneally, hovering outside Lady Rebecca's room and looking decidedly shifty. Jarvis stops dead in his tracks, just waiting for Frank to notice him, and sure enough the valet turns and takes a step in the enraged butlers' direction before finally realising he is standing there.

Jarvis his voice stern and commanding: Mr Keneally, what do you think you are doing? Surely you know this place well enough not to get lost!

Frank sauntering up to Jarvis, standing only inches away from him, an amused expression on his face: Look, you're not the boss of me any more, if you hadn't noticed, and I can go anywhere I damn well please, WALTER!

Jarvis lowering his voice and staring him straight in the eye: I'll warn you just once to stay away from Lady Rebecca, Keneally. I may not be responsible for you any more, but when you're under my roof you will behave yourself or you will feel my hand across your face again, do I make myself  
clear?

Frank snorting out a mocking laugh: Lady Rebecca? Andrew Adams' nice bit of blue-blooded arse? Yeah, she's a looker and no mistake, you've got an eye for the ladies Mr Jarvis - if you can call them that - don't you fancy a bit of her too?

Jarvis feeling his anger reaching boiling point, his good looks creasing in fury: Get out of my sight, your attitude and your downright insolence get right up my nose, I don't know how Lord Dalrimple-Sykes can stand the sight of you! I've no idea how you found out about Mr Adams but I suggest you keep away from Her Ladyship, although a damn good hiding would do you a world of good!

Frank pursing his lips and running his fingers through his light-brown hair: Ooh touched a nerve, did I! Didn't know Rebecca was into all that kinky stuff! Or did you mean Mr Adams? Oh and don't think you're going to strike me again, one more word to Lord Julian and I think your position will be seriously compromised, don't you? And talking of compromising positions, how is Mrs Ryan these days? Haven't got to see much of her lately, unlike you of course, Mr Jarvis, I bet she's a real treat under all those petticoats, makes a change from that tart you used to use in Bristol!

Jarvis moving even closer, his fists tightly clenched: I advise you to watch your mouth, Lord Julian or no Lord Julian I will silence you once and for all if you go so much as a ten yards near Mrs Ryan! You disgust me, just look at you, in your fancy frilly livery, when underneath you're nothing but a self-centred, nasty piece of crap which I thought I had scraped off the  
bottom of my well polished shoe over a year ago!

Frank beginning to snigger, just to exasperate Jarvis even more: Oh, don't tell me you never told the lovely Flora about, oh what was her name, Gertrude, or something similar? Dirty Gertie didn't they call her? I tried her once and wasn't convinced, she must have been a hell of a lot more enthusiastic with you than she was with me, but you always were her number one choice, weren't you? Welcomed you with open arms - sorry, I mean legs - favourite customer and all that. Randy butlers must've been her thing, it's good to know you're not as sexually frigid as you would appear. Anyway how does Mrs Ryan compare to Gertie, hmm? Or did you prefer that tanned bird in Italy? Yeah I saw you sneaking off with her when the others were drunk, that guilty look on your face, you lascivious devil!

Jarvis' hand suddenly flies out and grabs Frank by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and pulling him backwards towards him. Frank lets out a short, pained yelp, his smug expression turned to an uncomfortable grimace, but this pleases Jarvis no end and only causes him to grip even harder

Jarvis whispering harshly, his mouth close to Frank's ear: How many more times do I have to tell you, keep that loose tongue in that head of yours or I'll rip it out! What I did in the past is where it will stay, things are different now and I will NOT have you getting in my way! You left this place vowing never to come back, but just look at you, a lackey again like the rest of us, isn't that right, Keneally! Now listen to me and listen good, you keep your distance from the housekeeper and from Lady Rebecca otherwise their complaints about you will be the very least of your worries!

With a hard shove, Jarvis roughly releases Frank, who staggers forward, falling into the wall and spinning round, gripping his wrist in pain. With a spiteful snarl he shakes his head and then jabs his finger at Jarvis accusingly

Frank almost spitting in contempt: You just can't bear the fact that I'm better than you, can you! This damned house is full of fools, and you're the biggest one of all, Mr Jarvis! Well, the tannery may not have worked out, but if you think I'm going to stick around ruining my life slaving my guts out for this lot you've got another thing coming!

Frank pushes himself away from the wall, lunging threateningly at Jarvis, moving intimidatingly close again, but the butler stands firm, his expression of contempt set in concrete

Frank snatching at Jarvis' grey waistcoat and pulling him slightly forwards: You presume to stand and lecture me about how I should behave when you let your under-butler get away with sleeping with the aristocracy, while you go from one scrubber to the next before hopping into bed with the housekeeper right under the toffee nose of old Sturges Bourne! You're a hypocritical joke with fake morals and a fake name to boot, you think you're so high and mighty being a butler when in fact you're nothing...!

Jarvis smacks Frank's grip away with a hard slap then cuts him off mid-rant, desperately trying to keep his temper from flaring further and beating his former under-butler to a bloody pulp. He knows answering back will just be fruitless, Frank is just trying to provoke him into hitting him again, this time much harder than the last, so the smug valet can watch him being humiliated by that fop Julian before being thrown out without character, his reputation in ruins

Jarvis speaking threateningly quietly and slowly: Unless your master requires you Keneally, get back to your room. Now. And make no mistake, I will be watching you.

Frank curls his lip, an almost manic look of hatred in his eyes which sends a small chill down Jarvis' spine. With a disdainful 'pah!' Frank turns on his heels and storms away, making his mind up to lie low before paying Lady Francesca a late-night visit. Jarvis, his heart thumping in his chest, watches Frank disappear down the hallway. With a brief glance at Rebecca's closed door he tugs out the creases in his waistcoat and strides off in the opposite direction, his jacket flying out behind him.

Of course, if Jarvis thinks that he will get from the main house to Flora's room without any interruption then he is about to be sorely mistaken. Muttering expletives about a certain valet under his breath, he shakes his head and crunches his knuckles as he makes his way through the servant's quarters until he suddenly stumbles upon Grace May, chattering and giggling loudly with a certain mother of his. They both glance at him in surprise, Emily smiling pleasantly at her son, expecting a similar response. But Jarvis, in no mood to be sociable, causes both women to jump in shock as he vents his wrath

Jarvis giving his mother a cursory glance then glaring at Grace: Miss May, I am sure you have better things to do than stand around gossiping, so go about your evening duties and for God's sake girl wash your face, change your apron and stop dilly-dallying about!

Emily quickly jumping in before Grace can apologise: Walt….Mr Jarvis, it is my fault, I stopped her, don't take it out on her. We were just…….

Jarvis gritting his teeth and glancing at his pocket watch: I frankly don't care what you were just doing, Mother, I would kindly ask you not to interrupt my staff, for if they begin slacking then the whole house will begin to suffer!

Emily just stands there in surprise, her mouth open slightly and her eyes wide, completely taken aback by Walter's harsh tone. He had never spoken to her in such a cold, unfriendly manner before – his staff may be used to it but she certainly isn't and isn't about to take such insolence from her own flesh and blood. Grace curtseys slightly, and with an apologetic glance at Emily hurries off, wiping the smudges of flour off her face, leaving mother and son to stand in awkward silence for a brief, tense moment until they are sure Grace is out of ear-shot.

Emily moving closer to her son, staring up at him in fury, her voice harsh but quiet: How dare you speak to me like that, and in front of your staff! What is wrong with you lately!

Jarvis trying to avoid eye contact, his temper rising in his chest: Oh, leave it Mother, I'm not in the damn mood!

Emily: You never are, are you! You've been rude to me, mean to Felix for reasons I have no idea, and all this with Flora, I don't know what you think you're doing but you seem to be alienating everyone and you need to have a good talk with yourself!

Jarvis breathing in deeply, his expression still stony and unmoving: Since you've been here, you've done nothing but interfere with my life, and I'm fed up with it! All this plotting with Felix, and still you won't leave it alone! Ever since Father died you've become so meddling, as if you're making up for lost time, why don't you just go back to Eastbourne, you're doing more harm than good, no wonder it's all going to wrong with Flora!

Emily's chin begins to wobble through upset and complete shock, never had Walter spoken to her with such disrespect, and she can't help the tears beginning to pool in her eyes, but this does nothing to soften her son's attitude, it is almost as if he has forgotten exactly who he is talking to. But all he can think about is getting to Flora, and his mother's amazing ability for bad timing is finally beginning to grate just that bit too much

Emily her timid voice croaked with emotion: Walter, how can you say those things to me? I am only trying to help you, it's only because I love you and worry about you, like any good mother should.

Jarvis huffing and snorting: All my life you let Father treat me like dirt, kick me around, do me down, tell me how useless and pathetic I am, and all you did was stand by and watch, and now? Now you want to suddenly help me? Why do you think I am how I am, eh! You know he cared more for Robert than he did for me, I was just nothing to him

Emily the tears finally rolling down her cheeks: Walter I tried to talk to him, I really did but you remember what he was like, there was no talking to him…..!

Jarvis interrupting harshly: Pah! Whatever! Frankly I don't care any more, you and Felix can do what you like, I just don't want him near me! I may even talk to the Earl about getting a new chef, there is nothing more to be said between us, and also between you and me Mother! Stay, go, up to you, but stop talking to my staff when they should be working, and STOP interfering with my life!

And with that, shaking, Jarvis turns on his heel and stalks off, leaving his despondent mother to stand and stare in despair, unable to move for the lead weight in her stomach. Turning the corner, Jarvis stops and rubs his forehead, sighing heavily and shutting his eyes, shocked by his own harshness to his mother. He hadn't meant to be so cruel, to say those things, but they just came tumbling out, spiteful word after the other, and now he fears she may never speak to him again. Just like everyone else. He had gotten so angry not just because of her interference, but also because in his heart he knows she is right and that he is alienating the very people he cares for, and who care for him. Damn it, he'll find her tomorrow and apologise, it will be fine, she's a tough lady she can take it. But for now, he has more pressing matters to deal with

Meanwhile upstairs Flora Ryan is pacing up and down the length of her room, glancing over to her chair where her ruined dress lay, a poignant reminder of the events of an hour or so ago. Running her fingers through her cascading curls, her breathing still quicker than normal as she recalled the events in the butler's office and then later on the stairs. It had been overwhelming, one moment they were fighting, the next they had begun to make love. Flushing with both embarrassment and excitement Flora placing her hand on her heaving chest, the pounding of her heartbeat filling her ears. What was she going to do? She realised that had the Earl not rang for Walter then there was no doubt in her mind they would have made love in his office, and on the floor of all places, a somewhat disturbing emerging tendency for them.

The question that remained utmost in her mind was whether or not she should do as he requested and leave her door unlocked for him. There was no denying she wanted to, a part of her was crying out for her to forget any dalliance Walter may be carrying on with the new maid, and give in to her more primal desires. She loved him and she wanted him, surely for tonight at least she could put all sane thought aside and simply indulge herself? After all in a few weeks she would gone from Taplows jaunting around Europe with her oldest friend, and not long after her Walter would be leaving for India, things would never be the same again and surely she would always regret it if she just let him spend their last remaining weeks together estranged, driven into the arms of another.

Suddenly she was jarred from her thoughts by a soft tapping at her door, for a moment she paused unsure how to react, should she let him in or not? Then all of a sudden she dashed across to the door, flinging the door open wide, but to her disappointment it was not Walter standing in the darkness but Bridgette. Stunned to see the maid standing at her door so late at night Flora did not know how to react.

"Ahh Madame Ryan, I am so glad to see un faire bon visage que Je suis connu."

"What?" Flora asked, her disappointment clear in her voice.

"Urghhh…I was 'oping that you might be able to 'elp me, it will sound très imprudent mais, Je…I have managed to misplace one of my suitcases, hier nuit I used zz toilette dans mon travelling case du toilette mais this night I 'ave ran out of certain items and I was 'oping that I could borrow some of yours just for this night."

Bewildered and unable to think of an appropriate excuse Flora stood back and ushered the maid into her room, ignoring the maid's stifled gasp of astonishment when her gaze fell on the ruined dress that was still draped over the arm chair.

"Mon Dieu!" Bridgette exclaimed walking over to the dress and running her fingers across the vicious tear in the fabric from collar to waist. "'Ow did this happen? Where you attacked by someone or was it a rampaging animal, I 'ave heard that zz peacock dans le jardin is particularly vicious?"

Embarrassed Flora snatched the dress out of Bridgette's hands, "It's nothing, only a tear, the fastening got caught in the fabric and it ripped when I was undressing earlier." Flora replied, stumbling over her words in her haste, unable to meet the French maid's eye. Unconvinced but unwilling to press the housekeeper Bridgette only raised an eyebrow in response to Flora's slip shod explanation.

"You wanted to borrow some things?" Flora asked.

"Ah Oui, if I may I require a nightdress and if you have any some camomile soap, I will just have to wait till I can send to town for the more spécialiste items."

Nodding Flora walked over to her dressing table and removed a clean and neatly pressed night dress, before opening one of the top drawers and removing a new bar of camomile soap. "Are you sure there is nothing else you need?"

"Oui, unless you have some essence de rose or lavender that I could borrow, I like to add some drops to my bath water, it 'elps relax me before I go to bed and it also gives the skin and 'air a certain sense of je-ne-sais-quoi! I have found les hommes find it très séduisant." She added winking conspiratorially at Flora.

Glancing down into her drawer Flora ignored the little bottle of rose water she had confiscated from Esther Spicer all those months ago and pushed it firmly shut, there was no way in hell she was going to help this little madam in her courtship of her Walter. "I'm sorry I don't."

"Ahh well never mind, I am sure I can make do for zz time being, I am sure I can persuade Monsieur Jarvis to arrange for some to be picked up from town pour moi. He is such a giving man, he will make such a good husband for the right woman, he will bend over…'ow do you say, reverse…No Backwards, that is it, bend over the backwards if you rub him zz right way, but I can imagine he could 'ave quite zz temper if rubbed up wrong, n'est pas?"

"Well I suppose so!" Flora managed to blurt out, unable to believe the audacity of the woman, first asking for a favour and then blatantly admitting she had designs on her Walter, viewing him as husband material.

"Mais Je connu he could get angry enough to start throwing things perhaps even tearing at things nearby in an effort to vent his frustration!" Bridgette added, her gaze falling unsubtly on the torn dress that Flora had flung on the bed.

Immediately flushing with embarrassment, Flora walked over to her door opening it wide in the most blatant of leave immediately statements, but Bridgette took her time, walking over to the housekeeper she patted her sympathetically on the arm. "C'est bien Je comprend, but if you ever need to talk, especially about the complications of zz the male mind or libido zen you will always find my door open, I think between zz two of us we should be able to come to some sort of arrangement. It will be difficile at zz beginning but after a while je suis certain we two can become the closest of amis, I have always taken pleasure from the company of both my male and female amis, and I 'ad 'oped that perhaps the three of use could become as close as intimes." Bridgette added, smiling coyly at the housekeeper before leaning upward and kissing her on both cheeks. "Bon Nuit Madame" She called back over her shoulder as she sashayed next door to her own room.

Half an hour or so later Flora was sitting by the fire staring into the flames when once again she heard a gentle tapping at the door, before the handle rattled futilely as someone attempted to enter.

"Flora!" Jarvis hissed through the keyhole. "Please love open the door, we only have to talk."

Getting up slowly from the chair Flora walked over to the door, leaning her forehead against the wooden panels she let out the breath that she had been holding.

"Flora please, whatever is wrong we can sort it out but only if we talk about it." Walter pleaded once more, causing the housekeeper to rest her hand on the door handle unsure whether she should open the door or not.

Part of her was screaming so loud to turn the key and throw herself into his arms but there was still these small nagging doubts at the back of the mind. What would happen afterward, what would he expect from her, not to go off with her friend but to wait patiently at home for him to return from India, and then what to marry and try for more children? But what if she failed, would his eyes drift on to other women, someone younger who could give him the son he so obviously craved? She still could not dismiss from her mind the scene of apparent tenderness between Walter and Bridgette in his office that morning. If he could lie so easily to her face deny that anything was going on when she had had confirmation of it by her very eyes, and the very words of his new lover, how could she believe a word he said?

"Flora god dammit I'm not joking any more you open this door or I swear I won't be responsible for the consequences….Flora please!" He added slamming his hands against the door in frustration, causing the housekeeper to jump back away from it.

For a moment she stood transfixed staring at the door unsure about what to do, then slowly she took a deep breath and letting it out slowly walked back over to it, one hand grasping the handle firmly the other turning the key in the lock, before opening the door wide and gazing out into the corridor.

For a moment she stood there in shock where was he, typically the moment she decided to give in was the moment he decided to give up. Glancing up and down the corridor Flora could catch no glimpse of the butler and so sighing to herself and consoling herself that perhaps it was for the best she slowly shut the door once more; unable to shift the growing feeling that her delay might have cost her more dearly than she could ever imagine.

By the time Frank comes out of hiding to return to the main house, all has fallen quiet, and the familiar creaks and groans of the great old building begin in earnest as it cools further and the frost sets hard and uncompromising outside. Rubbing his hands together, the valet tip-toes up the main stairs, stepping purposely to avoid the squeaks he had discovered while working there, until he hurries nervously along the corridor, stopping briefly by the newlywed's room to hear Lady Caroline bawling at Lord Julian, and the sound of breaking china against either the wall or poor Julian's head. With a snigger Frank decides not to intervene, thinking with glee that the night that fop manages to get her into bed may be the night that changes her forever. A good seeing to and a bit of manly assertion is just what that spoilt madam needs to calm her and make her learn just exactly who is in charge in their marriage - why doesn't he just slap her across the face and force himself on her, the spineless idiot?

When he finally reaches Lady Hamilton-Hussey's door, he straightens his neck tie, and with only the smallest of knocks pushes the door open. Immediately he sees his co-conspirator, sat in front of her mirror and brushing her hair. Smiling slightly wickedly, Franny glances at him via her mirror and beckons him to come over to her. Slowly Frank makes his way to her side, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth, as Franny spins around on his chair to look up at the handsome Irishman standing before her, still dressed in his full livery in case he is still required by Lord Julian at short notice.

Franny raising her eyebrows: So? What news, Mr Keneally?

Frank scratching his nose and folding his arms: Oh, well, she is still devastated, and now she says he forced himself on her a number of times, so much so she is surprised she's not with child. Even still she loves him, blah, blah, but there is no hope of reconciliation.

Franny nodding and pursing her lips: Excellent, and if she were to be with child then she would be disgraced, Hugo wouldn't have any more to do with the little strumpet and her bastard child! Good work Keneally. I don't think I want to know how you got it out of her, but it certainly seems she trusts you.

Franny stands and saunters behind Frank, brushing his arm then his bottom, eyeing him up furiously, right from his white stockings to his neatly cropped hair. Frank's grin of satisfaction fades as Lady Francesca pushes herself up against his back, her breath hot on the back of his neck

Franny running a finger along his collar: So, I suppose you'll be wanting your reward? How much did I say, £30?

Frank his voice amazingly steady under the circumstances as he stares straight ahead: I think you'll find it was £50.

Franny giggling and moving round to face him, her hand running along his jacket and up to his neck tie: Oh silly me, how could I forget? I can make it £80 if you like, I just want one last favour.

Frank backing away slightly, causing Franny to drop her hand: And what would that be?

Franny cocks her head to one side, twitching her left eyebrow and glances over at her bed, then back at Frank with a naughty twinkle in her eyes

Franny moving towards him again and lifting her head up so her lips are inches away from his: Oh I think you know. Lord Hamilton-Hussey is absent tonight, remember. I have the whole bed to myself.

Frank parting his lips, his eyes transfixed on hers: Your husband not, well, satisfying your needs, Lady Francesca?

Franny sliding her hand up inside his waistcoat: Well, he's not here, is he, so how could he possibly? I have born him children through necessity; I haven't had relations with him for fun you know. I have done my duty, and I know it well, but as for anything else – I have been a loyal wife to him in every way.

Frank smiling as Franny teasingly unbuttons his waistcoat: I don't doubt it, Lady Francesca. But now you feel you're owed your fun? With me?

Franny stroking a finger down his nose and lips and whispering: Something like that, yes. I am sure he has his loose women, so often I don't get to see him for weeks if he's away on business in Edinburgh, or even down here in London. I don't ask him what he gets up to, I don't want to know, but when he's with me I make sure he does as he's told, he's not all that bright really and he needs me. But you're just the bit of rough, as they call it, I'm looking for. I'm only 25, why should I not enjoy myself before I get too past it to care?

Frank hardly reacting as she unwraps his necktie: I thought you hated servants though, that's what Rebecca said. We're just dirt to you.

Franny untucking his shirt and running her nails up his bare back: That is correct, Mr Keneally, but it doesn't mean you don't serve your masters – or mistresses – well. You do my bidding then I will treat you in the manner you deserve.

Frank considers this for a moment, surely the money she is offering is too little for what she is after, and a woman in her position – who obviously holds the purse strings in her marriage – should be able to afford more, depending on how desperate she is, of course. And to Frank she seems very, very desperate. Surely there is no harm in bartering just a little? He had never had designs on Lady Francesca, and he still doesn't, but being paid well to have his pleasurable way with the younger sister of the most beautiful aristocrat this side of the Channel is an opportunity not to be missed. Frank isn't used to this, he is more familiar with paying out, either to some inexperienced 18 year old or some old, worn slapper for a quick one. The most high class he had ever been with was indeed Jarvis' old conquest Dirty Gertie, although he had been a bit liberal with the truth when he told him that he had been with her 'once', which should have been interpreted as 'two days ago'. She had nagged Frank the whole time about asking her favourite client when he would be returning to her as she hadn't seen him since New Year's day, so much so that Frank had left exasperated and completely unsatisfied after telling her to stop going on about him, Jarvis is too busy chasing fruitlessly after his housekeeper to bother with her any more and she'd better find herself a new principal benefactor.

Frank grunting and pursing his lips: Make it a round £100.

Franny breathing out sharply and blinking at his audacity: £100! And what makes you think you're worth that much! I'm sure I could have that William Forest for less if I asked!

Frank snorting in contempt: Yeah, you'd get him for about a guinea I reckon, flash him a bit of leg or anything else you fancy and he's yours for next to nothin', although he's been kicked in the essentials by Adams so often now I doubt he'd be of any use to you! But me, M'Lady, well, I can promise you for £100 I'll make it worth your while. I am your humble servant and will carry out your wishes in an exemplary manner. Take it or leave it.

Franny smiles and muses to herself, staring at him hard as if surveying a sculpture or a painting and deciding on whether to walk out the gallery due to extortionate overpricing or whether to indulge herself in a little bit of purchase therapy. With a satisfactory nod of the head, she sucks on her finger and giggles softly

Franny pulling open a drawer in her toilet: Very well then, Mr Keneally, £100 it is. Here's half now, and I'll pay you the rest afterwards, if you trust me to. This is so much fun, I've never bought someone for the night before, but probably best we keep it a verbal agreement rather than drawing up a contract, don't you think!

Frank sniggers slightly at Franny's poor attempt at humour in a situation which anyone with any decency would have frowned upon severely. Frank laughs a little harder at the thought of Jarvis finding out but without a shred of proof to go to Lord Julian with, how funny it would be to see the disgust on his face, the shock on Mrs Ryan's, while he just smirks at them and tells them to take their hypocrisy and go to hell. Frank kisses her firmly, and for once he feels complete contentment, the outside world has vanished for the night and he had just gone a long way in earning the first £100 of his life in what he considers the most easiest – and pleasurable – of fashions. And although Lady Francesca isn't the best conquest he could get as that is still yet to come, she is certainly worth a notch on the old Keneally bedpost. Who's had the last laugh now, Mr Jarvis?


	8. Episode 6c

The world was spinning, and for a moment Flora struggled to break free, she couldn't see yet she knew she was spinning, all she could hear was the rush of her blood in her ears and the roaring of laughter all around her. Suddenly there was light as the blindfold was ripped from her eyes and she went staggering forward trying to reach to someone to help steady her, but as she staggered forward the masked dancers all gracefully stepped out of her way, pointing and laughing at her as she floundered around like a new born lamb still so unsure on her feet. Then suddenly she caught a glimpse of an unmasked face, a face she knew as well as her own and with a renewed sense of purpose she floundered off in the direction she had thought he was headed, every few feet being battered by dancing couples all of whom who sneered at her in disgust.

For what seemed like hours she dodged couples, searched through endless corridors and archways, groves and clearings and each time all she could catch was the barest glimpse of him as he always turned the corner just as she arrived. Finally she decided enough was enough, she was so tired so she sat down on comfortable chaise lounge in a cosy arbour, and curling up rested her head on a nearby cushion, for a moment she contented herself with watching the exploits of the most bizarre looking birds she had ever seen. She knew that magpies stole things because they liked shiny objects but she had never heard of birds that both stole and dressed in clothes. It was as she watched some particularly vivid green-feathered birds fighting over a top hat that she felt barest whisper of lips on her neck. Turning round sharply she gasped when no one was standing there, getting up she walked round the chaise several times to make sure no one was hiding before leaning against the stone wall of the arbour in exasperation, and then suddenly falling backwards into darkness the whole world streaming away from her until she landed softly on something.

Sitting up and glancing around all she could see was the dull glow from a lamp that illuminated the room, however her contemplation of her surroundings was cut short when a pair of hands slid round her waist and a mouth began to kiss its way down the nape of her neck. In frustration she tried to turn around but found herself unable to move, forced to simply sit and watch as her mystery companion proceeded to undress her, then all of a sudden she was pushed on to her back and she was able for the first time to catch sight of his face.

"Walter!" She called out relieved that at last she had found him, but any further communication was abruptly cut off when his lips captured hers.

Gasping Flora sat bolt upright in her bed, shaking her head in an attempt to dislodge the dream, placing a hand over her still fluttering heart she took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down. It had all seemed so real,; the touch of his hands and lips had felt so right so like they used to and Flora had to choke back a sob. Is this the only way she would ever experience his touch from now on, in her dreams, would they be all that would keep her warm on a long winter night? Suddenly Flora threw back the covers and practically jumped out of her bed, dashing over to her chair and seizing her shawl she left her room and practically tip toeing down the corridor to Walter's room. Pausing only for a moment afraid that the Butler might have followed her childish example and locked his door, Flora's relief was obvious when the  
door handle turned quickly and silently.

Slipping inside Flora waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness before creeping across the room careful to pick up her feet, avoiding the multitude of items Walter left scattered across his floor before teasing back the covers and clambering into bed next to him For a moment she allowed herself to simply lie next to him gazing at his handsome face, he looked so peaceful that she was almost loathed to wake him, but if she was to make up for earlier then that was something she had to do. Pulling her nightdress off over her shoulders Flora shivered for a moment in the cold air before eagerly snuggling herself against Walter and drawing warmth from him, smiling to herself when his instinctive response was to slip his arm around her pulling her in closer without waking up. Chuckling softly Flora began to trace her hands over his chest, nuzzling against his neck and kissing and nipping along his exposed collarbone, causing Walter to smile and shift slightly in his sleep murmuring her name softly.

Amazed at what a deep sleeper he had become Flora realised perhaps it was time to put into practice some of the more interesting pages out of lady Rebecca's little book. Sniggering slightly she leant down and ran her hand along the floor by the bed, smiling triumphantly when she caught hold of his trousers, running her hands across them she quickly found what she was looking for and unclipping them moved to the head of the bed. Next she gradually moved Walter's hands from where they lay clutching both her and the covers and tied them gently to the bed posts with his braces, that should make for an interesting exchange when she woke him up, and as per Rebecca's observations there is only one way to do that if you're hoping for an immediate reaction.

- - -

For a few minutes they remained as they were, Walter too exhausted to move his full weight pressing down on top of her, his head resting on her breasts. Shifting slightly Flora ran her hands soothingly up and down Walter's back nuzzling against the top of his head, Flora placed a row of kisses along her lover's forehead, wiping his sweat-stained fringe away from his face only just catching the murmered, "Dieu m'accordent un fils"

"Walter." She whispered softly causing the butler to glance up at her a deliriously happy expression on his face. "Walter, please." Flora gasped, causing him to look up quizzingly before leaning up and covering her lips with his own. For a moment they kissed softly and tenderly, before Flora breathlessly pulled away, placing a quick peck on the end of his nose. "Tell me something."

"What?" Walter asked.

"What did you, when you… well you know, it was French wasn't it, tell me Walter please."

"Ahhhhhh, and why should I tell you that hmmm? After all this is from a woman who still has me shackled with my own braces."

"You're not angry about that are you? I mean…"

"No I'm not angry with you." Jarvis replied, "I was surprised at first but pleasantly so."

"If I let you go will you tell me then?" Flora asked.

"I will!" Jarvis replied, and so Flora turned slightly raising her hands to release the butler and so missing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Sighing when at last his hands were released Walter rubbed his sore wrists, before leaning down and capturing her mouth with his own, his freed hands roaming all over her body before tracing their way down her arms and deliberately seizing her wrists, slowly pushing them upwards. Suddenly Walter put his plan into action, raising her arms above her head; he held both her wrists with one hand whilst the other lashed them together with his braces before securing them firmly to his headboard. Flora had realised all to late his intentions, and by the time she started to struggle he already had a firm grip on her, squirming against him she tried futilely to free herself whilst Walter looked on amused, eventually realising she was trapped she stopped struggling and lay still glaring up at the butler.

"You sneaky bastard!" She retorted.

"Oh my love that is no way to talk to your captor why that might provoke me to do all sort of unspeakable things to you!"

"Knowing you you'll do them regardless!" Flora snorted.

"How very true!" Jarvis replied. "Now it's my turn to play, you lie there like a good girl and I promise not to be as rough on you as I could be."

"Fine, but first we made a deal, you still haven't told me what you said."

Smiling Jarvis leant in and captured her mouth, plundering it mercilessly, before finally pulling away when Flora began to gasp for breath. "Flora I will tell you, you'll just have to wait till I take you again but this time I promise to say it first in French and then in English. But first Madam I have a certain favour to reciprocate."- - -

A few minutes later Flora felt Walter's hands soothing away her sweat and tears stained hair, before planting soft kisses across her heaving shoulders, along the nape of her neck and then the side of her face, all the while whispering softly to her in French. "Je t'aime davantage que ma vie, vous sont mon amour, mon monde, mon tout!" Before reaching up and carefully releasing her bound hands and turning her gently onto her back before snuggling down next to her, his hands and mouth moving to cover every inch of her with a grateful kiss and caress. An exhausted Flora was content to simply lie there her hand moving to rake loving through his hair, as her lover nuzzled his face one more against her breasts and then her stomach, stroking the soft skin there lovingly. "Vous pelez est aussi lisse que la soie." He whispered before leaning up and placing a soft lingering kiss on her parted lips, pulling away he added, "Vos lèvres sont comme le plus parfait des rosebuds."

"Hmmmmm that all sounds wonderful, such a shame I can't understand a single word you're saying." Flora replied her voice low and husky as she wrapped her arms around Walter's neck pulling him in for anther kiss. "Now Walter Corey, as you promised…"

Chuckling slightly Walter rolled back over on to his back, "you remembered!"

"I did indeed, so confess!" Flora replied.

For a moment Walter didn't answer his face suddenly becoming serious, and he took a deep breath before turning back over to her. "By God I love you." Walter stated simply, a slight frown creasing his face when instead of smiling at him Flora's face contorted into an expression of confusion. "Why were you expecting something else? Something more poetic or lurid?" Walter asked a slight tone of annoyance creeping into his voice. "How come all of a sudden I love you isn't enough?"

Startled by his hostile reaction Flora placed her fingertips over his lips to stem the tide of his angry words before leaning forward and kissing him softly. "You know it is!" She added placatingly. Satisfied by her response and certain his fib had passed unnoticed Walter lay back next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her possessively into his arms, nuzzling his face into her hair and breathing in her unique scent as he gradually drifted off into a deep and contented sleep.

An hour or so before dawn Flora Ryan lay awake with her thoughts, she had been laying here for hours unable to sleep, watching Walter's face in the moonlight and trying desperately to block out his snoring. It had given her some much needed time to think; last night she had been acting purely on instinct, her need for Walter and her desire to be with him overruling whatever other doubts she may still be having. But last night had been about much more than desire or comfort for Walter, he had seemed so single minded, and although he had been as outstanding a lover as always he appeared to be more concerned with something other than pleasure, and then there had been that phrase he kept muttering. 'Dieu m'accordent un fils', or as Walter had said, when he had eventual consented to translate, 'By God I love you'. Flora shook her head confused; she knew she didn't speak French but she was certain she remembered Jean-luc saying 'Je t'aime' when he told her he loved her.

Sighing softly Flora brushed her hand down the side of Walter's face causing him to shift slightly in his sleep and nuzzle against it, his own hands searching desperately for her, until they found her once more and slid down her body, one hand coming to rest softly on her stomach stroking the skin there softly almost reverently before coming to rest cupping the slight swell of her abdomen before whispering softly into her hair "mon fils". However despite Flora's lack of French somehow the meaning behind his words struck home and the full impact of what they had done and the consequences it might have struck her. How could she have been so stupid, of course Walter would assume that by giving herself to him that she was ready to try for a family once more.

Shaking slightly at that thought Flora tried to stifle the chocking feeling of panic, what if she was pregnant already, she wouldn't know for weeks for sure and then it would be to late she would be in Europe for at least three months and Walter would be away for much longer, at least six for his trip to India. She might have to go through the whole thing on her own, and what if she lost the baby again, how would she cope without him by her side let alone deal with the shame of another pregnancy outside of marriage? Trembling Flora pushed back the covers and sliding Walter's possessive hands from her body she crept out of bed. Pulling her nightdress over her head and wrapping her shawl around her trembling shoulders she opened the door and disappeared down the corridor.

- - -

The next morning Jarvis woke with a broad smile on his handsome face, stretching slightly he turned on his side expecting to wrap his arms around the woman he loved but instead his wandering hands found only empty air and an already cold space next to him in bed. Opening his eyes suddenly Walter glanced around the room, where the hell was she? Jumping up suddenly he stormed over to his desk expecting at least some note explaining why she had left without even saying goodbye. Riffling through his papers he slumped down in his desk chair when his panicked search revealed nothing new, standing up he walked over to his bed tracing the pillow next to his where the indent of her head was the only clue that remained of her ever being here. Where was she?

Slowly this one thought preoccupying his mind Jarvis began to wash and shave, before rummaging through his wardrobe to pull out one of his more sharp waistcoats, its cheerful red and green tartan causing him to smile to himself, his confidence in his own magnetism returning. She probably only slipped off earlier to fit in an early bath, lord knows after the activities of the night before she would need one and just didn't want to wake him. Brushing his hair back from his face he turned up his shirt collar and efficiently knotted his necktie unable to dull the bright twinkle in his eye that would reveal to anyone who knew him well just what he'd been up to the night before.

Whistling slightly he sauntered over to the bed picking up the now infamous red braces and fastened them to his trousers before pulling on both his waistcoat and jacket and opening the door intending to trot on down to breakfast. However just as he was closing the door behind him he realised in his haste he had forgotten his watch, marching over to his bedside table he quickly seized the forgotten item threading the silver chain through one of the button holes in his waistcoat and slipping the treasured watch into his waistcoat pocket. Turning on his heel he strode purposely downstairs having to resist the urge to jump and click his heels together or shout out loud at his excitement at being properly reunited with his lover, unable to suppress the unspoken hope that bubbled up inside him that last night was the first step on the road to creating his and Flora's family, after all as far as he was concerned last night was simply the first of many.

Had Jarvis bothered to glance at the time on his watch instead of replaying in his mind the exploits of the night before then he might have quicken his steps, For the first time since he had started his employment at Taplows he was so late up he had missed not only breakfast but also his early morning briefing with the Earl. So instead Flora had gone in his place, she had been quite relieved to, as it had given her the perfect opportunity to broach the subject of her trip. At first Flora had been convinced the Earl was going to bite her head off, for a moment he was unable to speak; obviously the idea of one of his servants taking time off for foreign travel of their own had rendered him dumb. However fortunately for Flora the Earl was not alone, when she had arrived that morning he had not been in his study as usual but in the morning room.

He had grunted it was because the chairs were more comfortable but Flora was convinced it had more to do with the fact that sitting in here he could keep his beady lascivious eyes locked on one Lady Rebecca Farqherson as she showed Lady Caroline the steps to one of the newest and rather lively court dances. Even whilst she was talking and he was supposedly reading the latest itinerary for his trip to India it was though the Earl was only half listening. Practically looking through her, his mouth slightly parted as he ogled Rebecca. His eyes taking in the swish and wiggle of her backside and then when she'd finished dancing and curtsied low the press of her cleavage as it strained delightfully against her dress with her more rapid breathing. For a second when he shuffled the papers an embarrassed Flora could have sworn she caught sight of his obvious burgeoning attraction for the young lady.

However just as Flora was certain the Earl was not only going to find his voice but use it to sack her for her presumption, her personal saviour arrived in the form of Lady Rebecca. She had obviously caught Flora's request and sensing her friend was probably going to be in trouble she interrupted the conversation in her usual graceful manner. "Excuse me sir."

"Not now Becca." The Earl replied but not harshly unable as always to dismiss the beautiful Lady Farquherson.

"I know you're busy it's just I couldn't help overhearing, and I was wondering couldn't we have a brief word in private…" Rebecca trailed off nodding in Flora's direction before walking towards the Earl and sitting delicately right next to him on the chaise lounge.

"Oh alright." The Earl replied waving a relieved Flora about her business.

When they were alone Rebecca turned to the Earl and began her pitch. "Couldn't you let her go?"

"But…But!" The Earl began, but Becca leant forward placing her fingertips gently across his lips to cut him off and at the same time revealing a healthy portion of cleavage, which drew the Earls eyes like magnets.

"I know it's presumptuous of me, to interfere in your affairs like this, and if you like you can tell me to keep my little nose out of it…" Rebecca trailed off glancing down bashfully purposefully playing with the pendant that lay round her neck before allowing her fingers to continue to rub up and down her chest occasionally dipping naughtily in between her breasts, the Earls eyes blatantly following their progress.

"Becca you know I would never!" The Earl stuttered, unable to resist the urge to pat her knee reassuringly.

Smiling up at him through her long lashes Rebecca leant even closer mirroring his hand on her knee, but placing her hand slightly higher around his mid-thigh. "Thank you it means so much to me that you value my opinion, I mean so many men, especially those arrogant young whelps they never seem to want to listen to me, they only seem to be interested in my looks and its only a real man who is willing to look beyond the outer wrapping."

"Yes well, indeed, not that your outer wrapping isn't delightful as well." The Earl added chortling slightly his hand on her knee sliding slightly higher and caressing her thigh softly through her dress.

"Oh stop!" Rebecca giggled girlishly, tapping his wandering hand slightly. "You'll get me embarrassed I mean a worldly man such as yourself …you must have much more beautiful women hanging around you than poor little me."

"Never!" The Earl replied. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever scene, and the most modest, but even so what you're asking Becca my dear…"

"Oh I know, I know its asking a lot, it would be putting you out, it's just Flora's a dear friend and as such I have to ask you on her behalf, I mean I've always thought it important for friends to try and help each other out, lend a helping hand when a problem crops up." Rebecca replied her hand on the Earls thigh starting to move, causing him to jolt slightly.

"I know but Mrs Ryan is my employee not my friend and as such certain procedures and standards have to enforced."

"Oh I understand..." Rebecca leaning forward once more, brushing her cleavage against the Earls arm. "But I am your friend, and as such you'd be prepared to do me a favour, wouldn't you?" She asked her hand innocently drifting higher causing the Earl to sit up suddenly in the chair.

"Of course." The Earl replied automatically.

"Well what would make me happy is for you to make my friend happy, please let her go, pretty please?" She asked snuggling up against him.

For a moment the Earl was torn, and Rebecca could see him wavering. "I'd be ever so grateful." She added pouting slightly and fluttering her eyelashes, her hand patting the top of his thigh and her other hand returned to twiddling her pendant as she rocked her shoulders causing more of her cleavage to pull out of the top of her dress.

"Oh alright then!" The Earl replied laying his own hand on top of hers and attempting to move it even closer to his now obvious bulge, his other hand running further up her thigh openly caressing it though her silk dress.

"You Darling!" Rebecca exclaimed rescuing her hand and throwing it about the Earls neck kissing him softly on the cheek before jumping up from the chaise and dashing over to the door.

"Becca where are you going, are thought we might sit and chat some more?" The Earl exclaimed jumping up from his chair.

"Oh later later, I really must tell darling Flora the good news!" And with that she opened the door, blowing the Earl a kiss. Closing the door behind her she turned and almost bumped into the housekeeper. "Oh Flora!"

"What was all that about?" The housekeeper asked, stunned when Rebecca leant forward and kissed her softly on the cheek before sweeping past her on up the stairs, calling over her shoulder "Happy packing Flora my dear!"

It is lunch time in the servants quarters, and Will is sat at the head of the table, firmly placed in Adams' chair, as everyone chatted and gossiped noisily about the recent goings on with the new lady's maid Bridgette. Will rips into a bread roll and lounges back in his chair, smiling gleefully to himself as he surveys the table from his position of authority, believing that he should have found himself there over a year ago. Maybe Andrew would stay laid up for weeks, giving him enough time to try to win round Jarvis again - hmmm he would have to devise a cunning plan to carry on seeing Flora while desperately trying to curry favour with the butler, but if anyone could think up a successful strategy then it would surely be William Forest. He is in such deep thought that he fails to look up even once at the balcony - if he had then he may have seen an unmoving figure hovering in the doorway

Will dunking his bread into his stew: 'ere, George, what was that you were saying before about Lady Rebecca? Got an eye for His Lorship has she?

George guzzling his water then banging the mug on the table, causing everyone to turn their attention to him: Oh most definitely, you should've seen her in the morning room, fawning all over him, I mean I couldn't hear what they were talking about as I was over by the door, but she kept whispering into his ear and giggling, right weird it was. I mean, he's hardly a catch, is he?

Will wiping his mouth on the back of his hand: Well, now he's got his money back, those money-grabbing women won't be able to keep their hands of him, will they? 

Lizzie speaking a little louder than she anticipated: That's rubbish, that is. She can't be after him in that way because...er...because...why are you all staring at me like that?

Fred snorting out a laugh: Oh you can't mean because of bloody Lord Prance-a-lot up there? He's such a fairy that one, anyone can see that! D'you know, I saw him talking to one of those gardeners all you girls are into, he was eyeing him up something rotten, I swear it!

Will smirking at a blushing Lizzie: Oh, I know what you mean, Liz, has that fat idiot of a father said something to you?

Lizzie gulping hard but trying desperately to stay calm: W...what about? Don't know what you mean?

Will grabbing a handful of rolls and beginning to juggle them: We've all seen how he looks at her, letching over her, the poor woman! Although if she really is after the Earl then her bad taste may easily extend to him! As if he could ever get a woman like her, well as if he could ever get a woman, I mean what did he do to your mother Liz, get her completely off her face first or did he pay her a nice little sum?

George tugging at his friend's arm furiously: Oi, Will, I think you'd better shut it mate...

Will as if not having heard, pulling his arm away: Mind you if she's having to marry Bonnie Prince Hugo then I suppose she needs all the fun she can get...

WILLIAM FOREST, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY CHAIR!

A sudden loud clattering of cutlery replaces talk as all eyes swivel up to the balcony, as Will's heart plummets to the bottom of his shoes and a smirking under-butler approaches the rails, fully clothed in his livery and with his arms folded over his puffed-out chest. A murmur of 'Mr Adams' passes round the table, as Will stares open-mouthed for the longest moment of his life

Will the blood draining from his face, his spoon in mid-scoop in his stew: Mr Adams? I didn't know you were up and about, sir!

Adams rocking on his heels and grinning even more broadly at Will's discomfort: Well Mr Jarvis left me to tell you, as he knew how delighted you would be to see me back on duty, as I know how concerned you are for my welfare. And if you don't get your lazy behind out of my chair, laddie, I'm going to come down and break your arms, bone by bloody bone.

Huffing noisily, Will scrapes his chair back across the floor creating the most painful screech, everybody turning to face him as he stands behind the desk, the chair now behind him, his eyes fixed angrily on Adams'.

Adams gripping the rail and leering over: Now, move away from the table, and go and smarten yourself up before showing yourself upstairs! You look a disgrace boy! Lucky for you I came back when I did, as Mr Jarvis was about to demote you and give Georgie here a go at under-butler, he's so fed up with your arrogant attitude!

Will gritting his teeth and staring at his plate, aware that everyone is staring at him, open-mouthed: But I haven't done anything………

Adams: Well that's just precisely it, you've not done jack by the sound of it, chasing after a wee bit of skirt no doubt!

Will shooting a glance at Adams, a slight tone of alarm in his voice: Has Mr Jarvis said anything!

But before Adams can reply, Jarvis marches up next to him, and with a cursory, almost disapproving, glance down at the servants table turns to Adams and very nearly raises a smile

Jarvis: Ah, Mr Adams, feeling better I trust.

Adams without taking his deathly stare from Will: Indeed I am, sir. Much better. Ready and raring to go, in fact.

Jarvis pats him on the arm then turns to survey the hall as everyone continues to sit in silence, their stews quietly cooling as their lunch time ticks away. His stare comes to rest on Will, whose colour has returned and is now growing redder and redder with every passing moment, Adams' smug grin starting to completely crawl under his skin.

Jarvis glancing pointedly at his pocket watch: Mr Forest, I think you should take the advice of your betters and go and put some effort into your appearance as you will be expected on the door for lunch in less than ten minutes.

Will in desperate frustration: But sir, I was going to be tending the Earl and guests…..

Jarvis almost laughing in amusement: In case you haven't noticed Mr Adams is now back, so you are to resume your normal duties. Carry on with your food everyone. Go on, Mr Forest, as quick as you like, and make sure your wig is powdered properly this time!

With a defiant sharp sigh, Will thumps the chair down under the table and without glancing at anyone else turns on his heel and marches out, muttering expletives as he goes and slamming his fist into the nearest door in rage. Jarvis leans in to Adams as the other servants begin to chat and eat quietly, lowering his voice so nobody but his under-butler can hear

Jarvis looking Adams straight in the eye: Andrew watch him for me, will you. Report back anything……unusual. I don't want him to so much as wipe his own bottom without you knowing about it. He's beginning to ps me off far too much lately, I have a feeling Mr Cosmo may find himself with a promotion sooner than he might have anticipated.

Adams chewing his lip to resist another grin: Aye, sir.

Jarvis turning to leave, but then suddenly turning back: Oh, and another thing, if you must see Lady Rebecca, be discreet will you? I fear people may get wind of your little romance. I should ban you from seeing her, threaten you with the sack if you continue, but I won't as it would be more than my conscience could bear, but promise me no more looking through key holes or dressing in inappropriate attire? I am putting my job on the line for you here.

Adams nodding, turning a little pink: Of course, Mr Jarvis. Thank you sir.

Jarvis After one last glance at the servants: Right, come on then Mr Adams, let's go and tend the rabble, you know how they get when they're not being told what to do, they create complete mayhem and expect us to bail them out. And that's just Their Lordships!

With a chuckle the two men exit, the only thing on Adams' mind is to see Rebecca, even if it is just across a crowded dining room. She will be there in all her radiance, carrying his child, without anyone else suspecting a thing. One little glance of affection from her will be all he needs to keep him going until he can see her properly, feel her warmth once again, touch her, run his fingers through her long, red locks and protect her and their unborn infant from the cruelty of society's misunderstandings and prejudice. Surely she would never be after the Earl? Surely?

Meanwhile the housekeeper was finishing her duties above stairs, however since her encounter with Rebecca she had completed her inspections in an almost Zombie like state, causing Charlotte to cross herself more than once lest whatever was wrong was catching. It wasn't long before she was on her last room that of Lady Caroline's, she always left this till last as the young lady of the house was notoriously lazy, messy and demanding so affording her maids little time to pick up after her. However this afternoon as she knocked and entered waving Charlotte inside to place the new flower  
arrangements on the credenza, the door to the young lady's dressing room was flung open and a now very wet Bridgette emerged; her normally pristine blond ringlets looking like coils of sopping wet rope as they hung lifelessly down her pale face.

"My Goodness!" Flora exclaimed, her initial dislike of the new maid pushed aside in the face of her obvious distress. "What happened, did you slip and fall in the bath?"

Shivering slightly Bridgette shook her head. "Non…she errr…kicked zz bath over and threew a jug full of zz water in mon visage."

Sighing softly Flora removed the shawl from around her shoulders and wrapped it around Bridgette's shivering shoulders. "We'd better get you out of those things, I mean what with the terrible frost that's set in you'll really catch your death." Flora added ushering the maid out of the room and up the stairs.

A few minutes later and the pair were safety ensconced in Bridgette's room Flora staying to help the maid out of her wet clothes, before wrapping her in as many blankets as possible before the hot water for her bath arrived.

"Mon Dieu, it was awful the little monstre, she was in a terrible temper and there was nothing zat Annie or moi could do to calm her down, one moment she was sitting so still and quiet mais then zz next she was ranting, saying terrible things about both her papa and her over amorous husband." Bridgette trailed off nudging Flora with her elbow conspiratorially. "I think that last night was zz night!"

"Noo!" Flora replied, raising her hand to cover her mouth in shock.

"Ahh Oui! Je suis certain!" Bridgette replied chuckling slightly. "And I would say from her reaction that it couldn't 'ave been zz most inspirational of evenings!"

Covering her mouth with both her hands Flora tried to stifle the bout of hysterics that threatened, succeeding only smothering it slightly, so it emerged in little snorts and guffaws.

"Bridgette I was wondering, I mean this is going to sound bizarre but could you try and tell me what the English translation is for, now what was it….Dieu m'accordent un fils?"

For a moment Bridgette sat there thinking hard, "I would say it means en anglais, God grant unto me a son. Why do you ask?" Bridgette added when she saw Flora's face flush slightly with a combination of both anger and fear.

"Oh nothing important!" Flora replied her thoughts obviously miles from her conversation with the French maid.

"Really? I would say it appears zat my mistress was not zz only person at Taplows to up to mischief last night!" Bridgette added pointedly her gaze locked on the delicate row of tiny love bites along the housekeeper's collarbone that could just be glimpsed without the shawl. Gasping in embarrassment Flora's hand automatically flew up to cover the tell tale marks.

"I 'ave a suspicion that Monsieur Jarvis is somewhat better in bed zen any of his masters, ne c'est pas?"

"That is none of your business, besides how can you be sure it was him?" Flora retorted.

"Simple, you like myself are a woman with certain tastes and standards and zz Monsieur is zz only man 'ere worthy of my interest and so I assume yours as well."

Stuttering and spluttering at both the maid's presumption and her open declaration of interest in Walter, Flora stood up shocked walking over to the fireplace for support. "You are interested in Walter!"

"But of course, he is 'andsome, charming and now apparently also a good lover, why wouldn't I be interested in him?"

"But …but…" Flora replied unable to form a coherent sentence much to the French maid's amusement. "You can't."

"Why ever not, I mean since I 'ave been 'ere I 'ave been watching him closely to see if he is in a serious relationship, but as he 'as no permanent attachments, no wife or fiancée zen where is the 'arm in our getting closer?"

"But he and I… ! " Flora began.

"Oh I do not mind sharing him, after all I am sure there are zz days when you want zz time off, ne c'est pas?"

"No!" Flora exclaimed.

Frowning slightly a confused expression on her tiny face. "I do not understand, you never appear to spend anytime with him yet you expect to be able to keep him all to yourself?"

"Look Miss I do not know what things are like where you come from but here in England we have certain standards that people observe…"

"What like no relations before marriage?" Bridgette asked mockingly.

"Well…" Flora began.

"Or perhaps only indulging with one partner for your ole life?" She added

"Yes…" Flora replied.

"Et therefore no illegitimate enfants?"

Now shaking with fury, Flora walked over to the maid and physically seized her by the shoulders. "You stay well away from him!"

"Ow can I do that, after all the désirable Monsieur as already started giving me English lessons, and in return I 'ave offered to help improve his French, perhaps next time as per your recommendations I should suggest an adjournment to somewhere more private where I can vigorous test out his vocabulary and technique?"

Dropping the maid as if scolded, Flora backed away towards the door. "This is your last warning, leave us both alone!"

"Now zat is a shame, but if you like you can always come along to supervise our little sessions, and 'ou knows perhaps we can both convince you to participate, learning a little French would I'm sure do you the world of good!"

Shocked and disgusted Flora seized open the door and stormed off down the corridor slamming it firmly behind her.

It is obvious, even at first glance, that not everybody in the dining room had got off to a good start that day, or in some instances even a mildly reasonable one. Will is stood grumpily by the door, George ever so often glancing at him, slightly concerned, while Adams, Fred and Joe serve lunch to the assembled aristocrats, the only absentee being Lord Montgomery who is still away in London until the evening. Frank Keneally had strategically placed himself so he could have eye contact with both Franny and Rebecca, while still being on hand for Lord Julian. To his distress his employer had suddenly become extremely demanding, his mood slightly buoyed but yet amazingly his temperament a little, well, more masculine and assertive. Lady Caroline, on the other hand, after her outburst at Bridgette had gone into some sort of shock that even Annie failed to snap her out of. She had had to be practically carried to lunch, and nothing anyone now says to her at the table seems to register with her in the slightest. Her lifeless eyes are fixed straight ahead out of the window, and she begins to slowly chew her bread without even the slightest complaint about her soup or the pungent smell of the cheese.

The Earl had insisted that Lady Rebecca sat next to him, calling her over with a raucous laugh and causing Adams' stomach to churn in alarm, so much so that he had trouble carrying a fruit bowl successfully from the door to the table. Nudging a startled Fred out of the way, Adams serves Rebecca, desperately trying to get her to make eye contact with him but becoming increasingly aware that Lady Francesca is watching him closely from next to her sister, a sour look on her face as she blindly stabs a slice of cold ham with her fork. Hovering by his lover for a moment, Adams nearly bangs into her to try attract her attention, but eventually Rebecca waves him away with a cursory hand and a rather exasperated 'yes, thank you, Mr Adams', rolling her eyes at Frank who looked on in concealed amusement. Completely taken aback by this callous dismissal, Adams backs away slightly, a bemused expression spreading across his features – yes they had always had to be careful when around others, but this had never meant no affectionate glances or even touches, but her coldness had suddenly put him right off secretly brushing the back of her dress, which he had done so many times before.

But the frostiness in the room certainly doesn't end there. Frank, with a sly smile, eyes Lady Rebecca before turning his attention to a certain conquest of his from the previous night, remembering every intricate detail about her while all the while he tried to pretend she was Rebecca, and to very pleasing results too. Catching Franny's eye very briefly after a subtle cough, she glares at him momentarily down her nose before looking away, curling her lip almost in disgust. Frank's pleased look falls from his face at such a snub, and from then on every attempt to attract her fails miserably until he gives up totally.

Earl turning to Rebecca and grinning broadly: Becca my dear, will you be riding this afternoon? Before it goes dark?

Rebecca chancing a glance at Adams, who fails to see, then smiling falsely: Oh, I'm not too sure yet, I think I've got a bit of a headache coming on.

Earl patting her arm in the friendliest of manners: Well, just you let me know. Now I've got my MONEY back, I'm hoping to invest in a racehorse or two, maybe you would like to accompany me to the races when I get back from gallivanting around the world, what!

Hugo clearing his throat and smiling at the Earl charmingly: Oh I am sure we would both be delighted, thank you.

Earl his smile fading rapidly as he splatters his spoon harshly into his soup: Yes, well, we'll see.

At the end of lunch, Adams makes sure he stands right by the door, and to his own risk reaches out quickly and brushes Rebecca's hand as she passes. As if almost in slow motion, she turns her head, their eyes lock and the smallest of smiles tugs at her deep red lips, her love for him encapsulated in her eyes, and for the first time that afternoon, Adams feels reassured.

Jarvis meanwhile had at least managed to find his mother, even if the illusive Flora is impossible to pin down, as per usual. Standing in the doorway of her room, Jarvis watches with a heavy expression as Emily packs things into her trunk, sniffing every now and again and letting out a little whimper as she went. Throwing open a drawer she piles her stockings onto her bed, only a chance turn of the head causing her to notice her son, but even still after only a very brief pause she continues as if never noticing him. Why on earth should she be the one to say the first word?

Jarvis taking a step into the room, fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch: Mother, I……forgive me for last night, it was rude. I'm sorry.

Emily harrumphing and flinging open her wardrobe, her voice wobbling: Yes, well, what's done is done. I'll be out of your hair by nightfall.

Jarvis sighing in exasperation: Oh Mother don't be foolish, I didn't mean what I said about you or about Robert, what more can I say to you?

Emily turning furiously, hands firmly on her hips: What, I'M foolish! You want to ruin your life, and you say I'M the foolish one! It's always been the same with you Walter, ever since you were a small boy, just shouting without thinking, storming off, you couldn't even play with your friends without telling at least one of them that they were silly if they didn't follow your advice, the amount of times I had mothers round to the house complaining that you'd upset their little Billy or whatever with your big mouth!

Jarvis walks over and takes his mother by her hands and smiles at her. Oh, Emily thinks, blinking back a tear, he looks so much like his father when he smiles like that, the same look in his eyes, the same charm about him. He certainly has his temper too, although maybe a small part of the quickness of it could be attributed to her. Eventually, reluctantly, Emily smiles back at her son, reaching up and cupping his face with her hand

Jarvis softly, almost a whisper: Please stay, Mother, please. I'll make it up to you. I know really you're trying to help, but you must let me do this my way. Believe me, everything will work out for the best, I know it will. Trust me on this one, just for once.

Emily nodding slowly in defeat: I do trust you, you've done yourself and your father proud, you really have, my boy. You do what you think is right. But I know you men, with your stiff upper lips and your hidden emotions. Show her you care about her, never mind this French woman who's turned up, I can speak the language too remember and I know exactly what her game is.

Jarvis chuckling and moving towards the door: She is something, isn't she! I don't think you have to worry too much about her, she's just nervous. And you know yourself what it's like to feel like an outside in this place, so be nice to her, for me. Oh, and unpack those things of yours, and you'll find that there is a nice big slice of bread and lemon curd waiting for you in the kitchen on my instructions to Mr Simpkins.

Emily raising her eyebrows in exclamation: Oh, you didn't ask Felix then?

Jarvis coughing nervously, his pleasant smile replaced by a glower: Er, no, I didn't ask Felix.

And after seeing his mother's disapproving nod of the head Jarvis quickly realises that she is never going to change now and stop interfering no matter WHAT he says. With a small, forced smile Jarvis turns and marches out, his quest to find that minx of a housekeeper well and truly back on track

Downstairs the George and Will are sitting in the footmen's room, trying desperately to remove the residue of Fred and Joe's last practical joke from their livery before it was spotted by the ever watchful Mr Adams.

"I can't believe those two!" Will exclaimed moving to brush the last few chalk letters from the back of his coat. "I mean I was on my way up to attend on Lady Francesca and if you hadn't noticed before I walked out the room…"

"Tell me about it mate, who do those pair of Judy's think they are playing with?" George added. "I mean who are they that they can get away with labelling us those things! Fred is far fatter than you are mate, I mean we've all seen how you tuck in, you do love your food and no mistake but to write on the back of your coat gluttonous pig now that's going to far!"

"Thanks mate! I think! And I mean we all know how you go around with that gormless look on your face, but that's no need to label you a village idiot." Will retorted.

"THE!" George replied.

"Oh alright THE Village Idiot, or would you prefer Mr Village Idiot Sir?" Will asked sarcastically.

George's only reply was to throw his chalk dust ridden brush over to Will, hitting the footman on the side of the face and releasing a cloud of white powder which settled like blanket of snow over him.

"You Bloody Bd!" Will growled, attempting to brush the speckles off dust off on his face and hair.

"My pleasure mate!" George replied. Then after a few more minutes of silent labour George piped up again. "Hey Will mate, can I ask you something?"

"That depends if you're going to try and pump me for details again about what it was like bedding a certain person, who will as always remain nameless?"

"No..No, I won't, I mean I don't need to really the bloody broad grin on your face the next morning was enough to tell she must have been a bit of a goer!" George trailed off sniggering at the thought. "No I meant can I ask your advice about Grace?"

"Ask away mate, but I should warn you in advance with my track record with women to completely ignore any advice I give you, follow it at your own risk!"

"It's not like that! It's just have you heard her talking behind my back, I mean ever since Mrs Ryan and Mr Jarvis got engaged, well she's been dropping these monumental hints about getting married and in order to enforce her point she's not  
been as friendly as she once was!" George added, raising his eyebrow to punctuate his point. "I think she wants us to leave and get married, have you heard anything?"

"Ahhhhh, well I'm glad to hear that one of you has some brains, after all one Cosmo in the world is more than enough!"

"Oi mate you can be nice if you want!" George retorted causing Will to smile mischievously.

"However to answer your question, I haven't heard anything, I suppose I've been somewhat preoccupied with my own problems."

"How are you mate? I mean after the bathroom scene with her who shall not be named, has anything else happened?" George asked.

"No!" Will replied his voice low and cracking slightly. "She's ended it, I suppose after everything I was only a diversion a bit of fun, and I know you all think I should just get over it but, I never felt like this for anyone before, she's always in my thoughts and my dreams!" He added softly.

"Yeah I think we all know that mate, the noises you come out with sometimes!" George said sniggering slightly.

"I don't call out her name do I?" Will asked panicking slightly.

"No mate you don't talk as such, its more moans and groans!" George replied trying desperately to keep a straight face as his friend was obviously still upset.

"Well that's something!" Will whispered. "I sometimes think if only I could have one more kiss, one more chance to hold her, make love to her, this time knowing it was really the last and so making it as perfect as possible, something I could treasure. But what's the chance of that happening, I tell you the only person she manages to avoid more than Mr Jarvis at the moment is me!"

"Mate if I thought you had a chance, but with Jarvis around well I'm sorry mate!" George replied.

"I know, it's just I'm not ready to move on just yet, but the trip to India will give me plenty of time?"

"That's if you get picked, you know the Earl isn't taking everyone, you might end up being left behind!" George joked.

"Yes and just think of that! I mean Taplows and its entire female staff alone for six months without any of their usual male companionship to distract them!" Will replied a certain twinkle re-entering his eye.

"Will!" George began.

"Oh let me at least dream Georgie boy, I mean after a few months she'll be gagging for it, I know her, really know her she's a fire cracker there's no way she'll be able to hold out against an all out assault of the Will Forest magnetism, she'd be on her back before any of you lot could say Lord Julian Dalrimple-Sykes."

Choking slightly at the comment, and the rather bizarre mental image it conjured, George began to shake his head. "No Will you can't!"

"What who says there is anything wrong with sabotaging my own chances of being picked, it's not like I'm hurting anyone!" He added before walking over to one of the cupboards, rummaging around for a while before finding and seizing the chalk. Storming over to the other footmen's jackets he paused for a moment before beginning to scrawl somewhat obscene messages on the back of them. When he had finished he turned round to grin triumphantly at George, before purposefully dropping the chalk into his own coat pocket, crushing it slightly so it would leave a tell tale clue before emptying the crushed fragments out onto the floor.

"I'd say that was stage one of the campaign firmly underway!" He called out to George as he practically sauntered out of the room and upstairs to attend on the Earl.

Smuggly whistling to himself, Will dances to the top of the stairs as he fixes on his wig, twirling and clicking his heels in such buoyant manner that it isn't until a hand firmly grips him by the shoulder that he finally comes to a startled halt. The footman twists round and grips the banister, almost slipping backwards as he gasps in surprise at the burning glare of his companion, the hand still resting firmly on his shoulder

Adams with a half smile and a loud snort: You should watch yourself, Mr Forest, you nearly had a nasty accident on the stairs just then, and we couldn't have you toppling down them, now could we, eh? Because we all know how THAT can turn out, don't we?

Will snarling in spite: What the hell do you want, Andrew? You're holding me up from doing my duties…….

Adams stepping towards him: Ah, yes, duties – talking of them, if you're think you're tending the Earl this afternoon then you're certainly mistaken William, I think we'll give Mr Cosmo a go.

Will shaking his head in disbelief: But you can't, I'm first footman not bloody George, I didn't tend His Lordship at lunch so I should damn well get to do it now, you just can't!

Adams lowering his voice to a hiss: Oh, can't I now? Who you going to tell, eh, Mr Jarvis?

With a growl Adams seizes him by both arms and forces him to walk back down the stairs, Will struggling and cursing back to the footman's room where George has just finished combing his hair. Shoving him into the room so he collapses against a chair, Adams turns to George, a small glint of satisfaction in his eyes at being back – almost as if the rest has done him a world of good, and now his appetite to ruin William Forest's life has become greater than ever before

Adams clicking his fingers at George: You! Go and tend the Earl, William here has got other duties to get on with.

George glancing, puzzled, from Adams to a stooped, humiliated first footman: But I'm meant to be on the main door……..

Adams rapidly losing patience: Frederick's doing it, now go on! The Earl will be wanting his bath! And close the door behind you!

With a quick, sorry glance at Will, who fails to return the eye contact, George snatches his wig from the table and hurries out, the door swinging shut behind him. For a moment the two men stand in silence, Adams pacing around Will with his hands firmly behind his back, his eyes locked on him, as if he were a mildly disgusting museum exhibit, while Will's breathing begins to increase rapidly and sweat beads gather on his forehead. After circling him twice, the under-butler comes to a sudden stop in front of him, and for the first time Will raises his head and returns the glare of utter hatred

Adams smacking his lips and leaning in: Don't look so glum, Forest, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm really quite a nice chap once you get to know me.

Will pouting in disgust, his voice wracked with fury: Oh I think I know you alright, Mr Adams! Every time it's just you and me I know how it's going to end, why don't you get out of my face, I'm sick of it!

Adams chuckling and smacking him hard on the shoulder in a seemingly friendly manner: Now, now, Mr Forest. Such a shame you think like that, it really is. Maybe I've been to harsh, maybe you HAVE been working too hard, and you should take the weight off your weary feet.

With that the under-butler kicks the nearest chair underneath Will and pushes him firmly by the shoulders down into the chair so hard that a shooting pain sears through the base of Will's spine causing him to wince in shock. But this doesn't stop Adams from walking behind him, smiling to himself and digging his nails deeply into the footman's shoulders, pinning him to the seat and leering over him

Adams: Such a shame that Mr Cosmo is going to be delegated all the first footman responsibilities from now on from me, isn't it, and you'll be getting all the crap jobs including polishing my shoes every morning before I get up.

Will desperately trying to shake off the painful grip: Why don't you leave me be, I mean it's not as if I'm chasing that daughter of yours any more, is it, eh?

Adams snorting in amusement: Only because she had more sense, could see you for what you really are – a good-for-nothing lay-about who should have been kicked out a year ago! No, you're too busy eyeing up a certain older woman….

Will's head shoots up at this, looking over his shoulder as Adams moves round so their faces are inches apart

Adams:.……Oh yes, I've seen you, the way you look at her, what is it about her Will, eh, does the way she issues her orders grab your fancy or what? Don't let Jarvis catch you lusting after her, or my little physical persuasions will just seem pleasurable in comparison. There's only one woman who was good enough for you and that was that little cow Esther Spicer!

Will his face twisted in fury, determined not to back down: You know nothing – NOTHING, you stupid Scotch gt. She's too good for this place; I'M too good for this place!

Adams suddenly lunges forward and grips Will's hand, twisting it round until it would go no further then crushing his fingers until he gasps in pain, tears of agony springing automatically to his eyes. With a further forceful tug, Adams causes Will's shoulder to pull and crack just enough to cause immense pain without permanent damage.

Adams digging his knee into Will's thigh: So, you think she's going to run off with you or something, is that it! And why the hell would she do that, when she hates your guts just like the rest of us do! You're a bloody waste of space lad, I know it, you know it, Mrs Ryan knows it, and certainly Mr Jarvis knows it. Now if you were thinking of running away on your own, well, that's a different matter, who would care, eh? You've got nobody here to care, no family, no sweetheart, the only one who may give a stuff is George and he'll be leaving one day to wed Grace May no doubt anyway. You'll end up just like your old man, unable to keep a woman without killing her, Mrs Ryan's best off out of it if she values her life!

This is it, the last straw, if Will had thought he didn't have the strength in him to push Adams away he had suddenly managed to find it. With a roar of rage, the footman lunges forward and drives his free fist into Adams' stomach, winding him and sending him flying back, his grip on Will's wrist freed. Will moves to pin Adams down on the floor, bringing his knee up into his crotch and holding his arms down on the cold stone

Will: She loves me and I love her, I know she does! You'll never understand, you don't have the ability to love or care for anyone! Why didn't you just die, eh! Why does God let the likes of you live and not Master Harry!

Quickly, to catch him off guard, Adams head-butts Will, weakening his hold long enough so he can push him off and over, straddling his chest and thumping him hard in the side of the face so the footman lets out a cry of pain

Adams pulling Will's head back by his hair: Think you can hit me, do you, you snivelling piece of filth! She doesn't love you, she can't stand you, told me herself she did, doesn't want you anywhere near her, and she said if you were to bother her again to do my worst!

Will tears rolling down his cheeks and blood dribbling from his nose: She never said that! You're a liar! She thinks you're the worst under-butler Taplows has ever had, she'd never ask you to do anything for her! You make her sick to her stomach, you make all women sick!

Adams climbing off Will and dragging him up by his shirt: Get to your feet, now! If she ever did like you, well she's certainly gone off you now – first Mr Jarvis, then you, well now she seems to be single again so who knows who she might go after next, maybe the Earl, eh, he's got money, so why not!

Will as Adams smacks him up against the wall, his head cracking: Just like Lady Rebecca, she's after him too – and I know how you want her, it must be sad to know that she'd rather go after an old windbag like His Lordship than touch you!

Adams lunges forward again, thumping him repeatedly in the stomach until Will collapses to the floor, sobbing softly as he doubles over, furious with himself for letting Adams get the better of him again and humiliating him so horrifically over Flora. With a final kick in Will's calf, the under-butler throws Will's wig at him, hissing at him to get cleaned up, get over his self-pity and get up to the front door to relieve Fred

Adams: And I'll be watching you like a hawk under Mr Jarvis' strict instructions. You so much as take a ps or blow that snotty nose of yours and I'll know about it!

Will pulls himself awkwardly to his feet, one arm wrapped around his bruised abdomen as he coughs, not even daring to look Adams in the eye for fear of another beating. Adams watches him in silence as he shuffles to the door, fixing on his wig, his breathing laboured and his shoulder throbbing with a dull ache. A small smile creeps across Adams' lips, thinking there is nothing quite like causing William Forest pain and upset. Only one thing is better than that, and he hasn't experienced it for at a couple of days, damn those doctors! A few days may as well be a lifetime when one is used to getting it as regularly as he had the past few weeks. Well, that certain frustration would with any luck be dealt with that evening – yes he will give Rebecca a night to remember alright, their future would be discussed afterwards and this time he will be damned if she won't say 'yes'!

Shaking slightly as he dipped his head into the water trough outside in the Servants Yard, Will winced as the freezing water stung his already bloody and bruised flesh. For a moment Will kept his head under water, it would be all too easy a few minutes longer and he would never have to endure another one of those Scotch gts beatings.

However he knew in his heart he couldn't do that, before pulling his head up from the water gasping for breath. Shaking slightly Will began to slowly unbutton his shirt, despite the cold he knew he had to try and gage the level of damage that Adams had inflicted.

It was at this second the Lizzie walked across from the laundry, a huge pile of Lady Rebecca's freshly laundered petticoats clutched in her small hands. Stopping suddenly on seeing Will so obviously dishevelled, her concern visible on her face.

"Move along Liz, there's nothing for you to see here!" Will muttered softly.

"Did he do this to you?" Liz asked.

"You know better than to ask me that Liz!" Will replied, his eyes hooded. "Besides you took your side, better to stick to it don't you think!"

"Will that's not fair!" Lizzie retorted.

"Life's not fair love, if it was then that father of yours would be locked up and I'd be under-butler and who knows perhaps if I was then…" Will trailed off shaking his head sadly.

For a moment both stood in awkward silence Mrs Ryan unspoken name hanging in the air between them. Finally Lizzie broke the stalemate. "You should let Mrs Ryan take a look at those!" She said pointing at the nasty bruising appearing over his abdomen. "Not to mention that cut looks deep, you may need stitches."

"Naa." Will replied shaking his rapidly bruising face. "I couldn't! I promised her I wouldn't trouble her…"

"Oh for goodness sake, this is hardly troubling her, it's her job to provide basic medical care!" Liz retorted. "Besides if you won't go tell her then I will!" She added determinedly turning on her heel.

"Liz wait!" Will called out after the maid, but it was too late she had disappeared into the house. 

Meanwhile upstairs Grace was bustling about; she had managed somehow whilst baking that morning to pour half the mixture for one of the Christmas cakes all over her nice clean apron. Silently reprimanding herself for not paying attention and spending too much time daydreaming about a certain footman and imagining the scenario when he would eventually ask for her hand; she headed off upstairs to change.

However as she reached the maid's bedroom her hand resting on the handle she could hear the distinctive sound of a woman crying. Pushing the door open gently, Grace popped her head round the door; on her bed was Charlotte her face buried in her hands. Immediately concerned Grace moved over to comfort her friend, sitting next to her on the bed Grace patted her shoulder soothingly.

"What's wrong?"

But Charlotte did not reply, instead she thrust a two tear stained letters into Grace's hands before falling back on to her bed, burying her head in the pillow, her body now wracked with sobs. Glancing down at the letters, Grace could see straight away that one was from the good Doctor Evan; worried that he had finished with her friend and that that was the reason for her melancholy Grace began to read.

However after quickly scanning the first few lines, and then reading the enclosed work of poetry dedicated to her friend's many virtues, Grace became convinced this was not the case; but if it wasn't then was she crying. Quickly glancing at the other letter it soon became clear. It was a very precise, very cold letter from her mother; obviously in response to one that Charlotte had sent her mother informing her about her walking out with a certain doctor.

Reading the whole letter through, Grace was shocked at how any parent could be so blunt and so unfeeling to her own daughter. Her mother stated quite plainly that if Evan's was not a catholic her girl had better break it off straight away, as they would not be willingly to welcome heretics into their family, and that if she was to persist in seeing a protestant she too would be excluded from the family fold.

However that was not the only cold home truth it contained. Her mother expressed serious doubt that giving the doctor's relatively superior social status to Charlotte that he could have serious and honourable intentions towards her. And she warned her daughter that if she continued to see him, he might try to pressure her into surrendering her honour, in which case she would also be excluded from the family, as it was not a 'haven for whores or heretics!'

Dropping the poisonous letter like it had bitten her, Grace turned to Charlotte rubbing her back soothingly. "It's all right Lottie she doesn't know what she's talking about, of course his intentions are honourable you can see that from his letter, he clearly adores you, and besides your not the sort of girl anyone could get the wrong impression about. I'm sure the good doctor respects you, he wouldn't lay a finger on you without a proposal I'm sure of it."

Sniffing slightly, Charlotte sat up from her bed wiping at her red eyes. "You don't understand Grace, around him everything's different…I…I want him to touch me."

"Well that's good isn't it?" Grace replied. "I mean you wouldn't want a husband you couldn't enjoy being with!"

"It's not that...It's just I'm not in control of myself when I'm with him, I doesn't matter to me whether he is a catholic or not, I haven't even asked him and when he kissed me…"

"He Kissed You?" Grace exclaimed, secretly thrilled for her friend's romance. "But that's wonderful!"

"Oh it was, but I've never found myself reacting like that, it frightened me the way it just felt so right and in that moment I never wanted to stop, Grace what if he doesn't want to marry me what if he just wants a brief liaison?"

"Well if that's not what you want then you simply tell him so." Grace replied.

"Yes I know…It's just…" She added leaning in to whisper to her friend, looking cautiously over her shoulders to see if anyone was listening in. "When we're together I don't think I'd be able to say no! Here and now with you I'm safe, I'm myself, but when I'm with him Grace it's like I'm more alive than I've ever been, my heart pounds and everything I see and hear is so much…well just so much more." Charlotte trailed off looking sadly out the window.

Leaning forward Grace wrapped her arms around her friend, hugging her softly. "Believe me Lottie I know just what you mean." 

Downstairs the atmosphere was tense. After Lizzie had done her disappearing act Will had dashed alone to the footman's room intent on changing his shirt and getting out on duty before the housekeeper caught up with him and demanded an explanation for his injuries. However just as he was buttoning it up the door was flung open and in marched Flora Ryan her medical box under her arm.

"I understand from Miss McDuff that you've managed to injure yourself Mr Forest." The housekeeper snapped, her expression stating clearly she was dubious abut the veracity of the girl's claims.

"It's nothing Mrs Ryan." Will replied keeping his eyes cast down and the bruised side of his face obscured from her view. "I walked into a door, I told Lizzie there was no need to go bothering you but she wouldn't listen."

Harrumphing slightly Flora walked over to him placing her box on the table and seizing his arm gently to pull him out into the light. However that was the very shoulder that Adams had damaged and Will could not smother the reflexive hiss of pain. Immediately the seriousness of the situation became clear to Flora, and her expression of professional detachment became one of instant concern.

"Dear God Will, this was no door. Take off your shirt!" She demanded, and Will reluctantly complied, unbuttoning his shirt and revealing to the housekeeper the extent of his injuries. Shocked and slightly sickened by the grotesque bruising that was emerging all over his body, Flora instinctively examined him for other hidden injuries, broken ribs and open wounds. At the touch of her fingers running across his chest Will was unable to prevent the sudden hike in his breathing despite the increased pain it caused across his ribs.

Closing his eyes he tried to imagine she was touching for other reasons, but his personal daydream was broken when the housekeeper told him to take his shirt off. Lifting his damaged arm Will struggled in vain, wincing and biting his lip against the pain as he tried to shrug the clothing off over his wounded shoulder. Realising he was struggling Flora quickly stepped forward helping him to pull the shirt off of his body, and for a moment she was close enough for Will to catch the smell of camomile from her skin and the barest hint of rose's from her hair. Leading him over to a chair Flora pushed him down into it gently before moving behind him and beginning to examine his shoulder in more detail. As she moved it this way and that trying to ascertain the extent of the damage Will had to clench his fist against the pain. Finally satisfied Flora strode over to her medicine box, removing a little tin of salve she heated up a small amount between her hands before massaging it into his damaged muscles, it was as the pain was starting to ease that she began her interrogation.

"Well I suppose I do not need to ask who was responsible for this?" She tutted.

"I told you I walked into a door!" Will replied.

"What repeatedly?" Flora retorted sarcastically.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Will added.

"Will this has to stop, you have to talk to Mr Jarvis about this…"

"Like that would do any good!" Will cut her off. "Who do you think encourages Adams, and then turns a blind eye when something happens? He hates me, Adams hates me and now even you hate me!"

"I don't hate you Will." Flora replied walking over to her box and removing the iodine, which she proceeded to dab on the bruised areas.

"Then why treat me like I have the plague? I gave you my word, I've done everything you ever asked of me and yet you still treat me with contempt!" Will replied getting to his feet and leaning down so he towered over the housekeeper.

"I never meant to, it's just I don't trust…" Flora began placatingly.

"Me? After everything we've been through?" Will snapped.

"No… Me actually, I still don't trust myself around you Will, I won't deny that since our night together there have been times when I so wanted to be held and loved and it took all of my control not to find you and throw myself into your arms."

"Why didn't you? If you really do care me for too, what would be wrong with each comforting the other?" Will asked softly brushing his hand down the side of her face.

"Because in here," she replied tapping her head, "I know it would be the worse thing for either of us!"

"Are you certain about that?" Will replied leaning down and forcibly capturing her lips with his own, his arms reaching out and trying to pull her into his arms. For a second Will kissed her passionately trying to restrain the struggling housekeeper, however all to soon for him she broke free, stepping back before slapping him around the face with all her strength.

"Don't you ever do that again!" Flora spat. "I told before and I'm telling you again nothing is going to happen between us, it was just sex Will that was all it really was! I don't love you I was only using you, can't you understand that, and the more you try to push it into something it never was then the more self deluded you become! We are never going to be together in the way you want, never!" She added finally before snatching up the medicine box and without a backwards glance stormed back to her office, leaving a stunned and upset Will behind her.

A short while later, Lady Rebecca returns from her ride with Hugo, sweeping through the house and turning the usual heads as she goes, not least the Earl's as she passes him in the hallway. She nods and smiles in acknowledgement, although her mind far from on her fellow greeter as she ponders the idea of motherhood without her child's natural father around to emotionally support her, although she knows full well of course that Hugo would make a most agreeable father and would give her all the love and comfort a dear friend should. For a second the Earl's chatter fails to grab her attention, until finally he touches her arm and forces eye contact

Rebecca shaking her head and frowning in exasperation: I'm sorry, what was that?

Earl smiling softly and patting her elbow: I said, Becca my dear, that that deep blue shade of your dress very much agrees with your eyes. You really do look...er...most delightful. If you will excuse my forthrightness.

Rebecca her eyebrows flying up in surprise: Why thank you, I'm sure! Hugo always likes me in this colour too, he says it is the most striking dress I've got, apart from my ball gowns of course.

The Earl pouts and grumbles out something totally inaudible before moving closer to her and to her complete shock threads his arm around her waist, an almost giddy excitement on his face. Rebecca gasps, trying to subtly remove herself from his tightening pull, but any more resistance from her would render her completely unladylike and utterly embarrass His Lordship in the process, and that would be most unfortunate considering they are standing in his hallway in the middle of the afternoon

Earl his eyes raking over her face, his voice turning husky: I've got some pictures in my room, brought them back from Italy, would you like to see them, eh? Maybe you would consider posing for me, like the women in them, then possibly we could talk about your future, I mean you're not married to Hugo yet, and I have far more wealth...

EH-HEM!

Both Rebecca and the Earl turn to a loud cough behind them, the Earl pulling quickly away from Rebecca, a startled look of guilt on his face which turns to annoyance when he sees who it is. Rebecca sighs in relief, desperately trying to catch the intruder's eye and silently plead with them that it isn't how it looks

Earl stepping forward, his face red and flustered: What is it, man! Speak up!

Adams his eyes firmly fixed on the whereabouts of the Earl's hands: Admiral Dalrimple-Sykes wonders if you will be joining him in the drawing room, sir.

Earl huffing and glaring at Adams as if it is all his fault: The old beggar, he does pick his Goddamn moments!

With a shake of the head, he barely bids farewell to a bewildered Lady before storming away, yelling 'where's Jarvis! I want some brandy from my cellar!' For a moment, Adams and Rebecca just stand in silence, him shifting round awkwardly and Rebecca looking away, embarrassed. Eventually, she glances up at him and notices the upset on his face, so shaking her head she quickly scans around before lunging forward and grabbing his arm, pulling him through the house and into the library, slamming the door behind her and locking it quickly. But if she had looked hard enough, she may very well have seen another pair of spying eyes lurking from the top of the main staircase, whose owner swiftly and silently followed the two of them to the library door to try to listen to every word of their conversation.

As soon as they are safely inside the room, and without a word of greeting first, Rebecca leans up and passionately kisses her lover, running her hands up his waistcoat and guiding her fingers along his neck tie and collar and through his hair, pushing his head down towards her. Adams responds with enthusiasm and drifts his hands across her back and down to squeeze her bottom through all her layers of skirts, releasing her lips to nibble along her jaw bone and down the side of her neck.

Adams breathlessly kissing the exposed skin just above her collar: Can't I just rip off your clothes here and now? Who needs to talk?

Rebecca raising her eyebrows in a scalding manner and tapping his nose: WE DO! Now stop, as much as I want to I...

As she speaks, she gives Adams a gentle push in the stomach to move him away, but as she does so he flinches in pain and gasps slightly. Rebecca lets out a sympathetic whimper and supports him, desperately worried he is still too sick to be back on duty

Rebecca:...Andrew, what's wrong! Are you sick again! You should be in bed!

Adams frowning and trying to move her hands away: It's nothing, Becca, don't fuss.

But Rebecca ignores him, pulling up his shirt and vest to reveal a large bruise across his stomach. Adams tuts in annoyance, why did she have to do that? Well, he considers, she would have found out sooner or later

Rebecca her voice high-pitched in shock: What the hell have you been doing, Andrew! Look at you, you're hurt! It can only have something to do with one person, that William Forest!

Adams dismissing her comment with a shake of the head: Don't worry about it, you know how it can get!

Rebecca folding her arms and pouting in fury: I most certainly do! How dare he, punching a sick man - a man who is recovering from a heart condition! Does that boy have NO feelings at all? He is pushing his luck around here and no mistake!

Suddenly Rebecca begins to stutter, mentally cursing herself for her loose tongue, desperate to just bite it off and never talk again. How could she be so careless?

Adams tucking his shirt back in, his eyes narrowing in suspicion: What do you mean, pushing his luck, Becca?

Rebecca breathing in deeply and smiling to cover herself: Oh, nothing, something, er, my sister said, he had served her the wrong gravy at dinner two nights ago, but it was hardly something to bother you with in your sick bed, now, was it?

Adams chuckling and running his fingers down her soft cheek: It's not like you to get worked up over Francesca's pettiness, that's for me to do! I'll reprimand him, don't you worry.

Rebecca wrapping her arms around his neck: Oh, no need, no need. Just give me another kiss. I've missed you so much.

Adams doesn't have to be told twice, and pushing her up gently against the door kisses her firmly, his hands wandering down over her chest and brushing her abdomen affectionately. Thank goodness, Rebecca thinks to herself, but how he ever bought her gravy story she will never know.

Adams releasing her lips and nuzzling her nose: How is it that you get more and more beautiful every day? I couldn't bare to see the Earl all over you just then, drooling, it disgusts me! I won't ever let him touch you again.

Rebecca laughing softly and taking his hands in hers: And how do you propose to stop him? Give him a good talking to? Don't worry Andrew, I can handle him myself, he's harmless really! I feel sorry for him, he's desperate for an heir and he'll do anything for one.

Adams pulling her into a gentle embrace: I hardly call you just 'anything', Rebecca. He may be a fat old haggis, but he's got good taste. You're intelligent, witty, stunningly attractive and the most caring person I've ever met. I love you so much, I just can't bear the thought of losing you, whether it's to the Earl, to Hugo or bloody Prince Albert himself.

Rebecca closing her eyes and letting him rock her softly: Oh, I don't think Mr Kraus likes women all that much to be honest, something about his walk tells me that Hugo may be more his cup of tea, so that's two of your three out already!

Adams pulling away, grinning and kissing her forehead: Not that Prince Albert, you silly puddin', I mean the real one! Although I suppose Felix would also qualify as someone I'd hate to lose you to.

For a long, lingering moment, Adams stares deeply into his Lady's eyes, feeling the warmth of her abdomen through her dress on his hand and knowing that everything with the baby will be fine, and it will be strong whatever life throws at it. Torn between wanting his child to have the upbringing in privilege that Elizabeth never had and wanting to raise it as his own, Adams sniffs, blinking back a small tear which had found its way to the rim of his eye and simply hugs Rebecca again, suddenly not wanting to make love to her but to just hold and protect her instead.

Rebecca, for her part, desperately wants to tell Andrew what has been happening with Frank, that he is working for her sister and that although he is spying he also seems to have other dishonourable intentions towards her, but she can't bear the thought of worrying him and making him ill again. Besides, it is highly likely that Frank would come off worse anyway and her conscience just won't allow her to be the cause of the beating Frank is likely to sustain if she tells him everything. After a moment, they break apart and Adams vows to come to her room that night so they can discuss their  
future whether it be together or apart; her engagement to Hugo would very soon have to become marriage if she is to save her reputation, so time has suddenly become far more important than ever before between them.

Tentatively, Adams opens the library door and peers outside, glancing left then right, and not seeing a soul around indicates to Rebecca to follow him quietly out. Smiling lovingly at Adams, and with a little sexy wink, she turns to leave, but the under-butler can't resist snatching her back by her waist and softly kissing her again, desperately wishing she could stay with him and not so much as go into another room without him there to save her from the wandering hands and eyes of the Earl. But, suddenly, something begins to worry Adams, a strange presence as if they are being watched by  
unfriendly eyes, causing him to pull away quickly

Adams quietly, dropping all physical contact: Well, you should get back to the others, they'll be wondering where you are.

Rebecca nodding and glancing over her shoulder, as if also sensing something: Yes, but just remember, whatever happens, I will always love you, Andrew. Always.

With an affectionate glance, Lady Rebecca saunters away leaving Adams to watch her, his mixed feelings churning inside him. He scans the scene again, the sense of a watchful presence still playing on his mind, but on seeing nothing he turns on his heels and walks off to quite possibly give William another yelling at. The eyes follow him as he marches past, their owner desperately wanting to knock him to the ground and pulverise him as their anger at being strung along by Rebecca intensifies rapidly. With a snarl, the scorned valet retreats into the darkness

Meanwhile downstairs the butler has decided to orchestrate a little get together with his own lady love, the only time that day he had clapped eyes on her was during lunch, and even then it was a fleeting encounter, he had been arriving as she had been leaving, and he had spent the rest of the morning cursing the Sturges-Bourne family for their inane eccentricities. Why had the Earl demanded on seeing him immediately after the family's meal had been served, did he do it on purpose to cause Jarvis grief or was something else out there purposefully keeping him and Flora apart? Despite all  
this Jarvis was determined to persist, his luck had to change at some point.

Sauntering down to the kitchen he managed to collar one of the scampering kitchen maids, ordering her to immediately put together a tea tray for two, and not to forget some of Chef's lemon cake. As much as he loathed to think or talk about Felix anymore, Walter had to grudgingly admit the Chef did make the finest pastries he had ever tasted, and that would be just the thing to melt Flora's somewhat icy exterior. It was as he was casually leaning against one of sideboards, surreptitiously eyeing up an nice bowl of whipped cream and allowing his mind to run in a thousand different direction, all which included privacy, a naked housekeeper and a purloined bowl of whipped cream, that Felix made his grand entrance from the scullery shooing Jarvis's maid in front of him.

For a moment the two men stood eye to eye, neither giving the other ground, before Chef roughly slammed the tea tray down in front of the Butler. "Your Tea Mr Jarvis!" He exclaimed sarcastically.

Narrowing his eyes in contempt Walter moved to pick up the tray, whirling round he went to leave, but before he could do so Felix clamped a restraining hand down on the Butler's arm, causing him to literally jump in the air, the objects on the tray rattling dangerously. For a second it looked like the jug of cream would actually tip over completely, but at the last minute it righted itself and Jarvis turned round to stare poisonously at the Chef.

"Yesssssssss?" Jarvis hissed.

"Didn't you forget something?" Felix asked mockingly.

"Well that depends! No as I have yet to find a suitable replacement chef, I would say we have nothing at all to say to one another! When I have done then we will talk, oh should I say I'll talk and you'll listen; to my firing your UNWELCOME FOREIGN ARSE!" Jarvis bellowed causing then entire kitchen staff to turn and stare at the butler in shock, he then continued in his normal voice. "Until then Mr Kraus, attend to your pots and pans and stay out of my way!"

Chuckling slightly Kraus leant back against the table casually. "I thought the Earl would have told you?"

"Told me what?" Jarvis replied, unable to resist taking the bait.

"He's asked me to come to India." Kraus replied.

Shaking his head in amusement the Butler retorted. "Is that all? That I already knew, why do you think I've been looking for a new chef so diligently? It's amazing how the prospect of spending time cooped up on a ship with you for over a month can motivate one!" Jarvis added, his smug expression slipping slightly when the Chef's grin did not subside as he had expected. "Well what are you still smiling about? I mean to do it Kraus!"

Unable to restrain his amusement the Chef burst out laughing. "Oh my dear, dear Walter. You really should listen when the Earl is talking to you, giving you your little marching orders for the day, if you had done they you might have realised my contract is not with the Earl's household but with that of his son-in-law's Lord Julian, you have no power over me Walter! But I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to discuss the situation, after all I'm all the servants will undoubtedly be bunking together for the long voyage!" Felix added before turning his attention to his neglected whipped cream.

Red and barely able to contain his fury, the Butler edged towards the door, the tray rattling in his hands, all thoughts of an afternoon rendezvous with Flora now far from his mind. However just as he was about to leave Felix called out to him once more. "Oh Walter you've still forgotten it!"

Pausing the Butler glanced back over his shoulder. "Forgotten what?" He asked his teeth clenched.

"Your Thank-you for the cake, I'm sure Flora will enjoy it!" Felix jovially replied before heading back into the pastry, whistling as he went, leaving Jarvis to storm off to his office, slamming the tray down on his desk. All his plans abandoned he slumped down into his chair, before an idea struck him, seizing the teapot he poured the hot liquid all over the slices of cake, then seizing the tray he made his way back to the kitchen. There he unceremoniously dumping it slap bang in the middle of the table, muttering to himself as he turned and made his way back to his office scattering startled servants as he went.

As the evening began to draw in, the sun finally surrendering to the inevitable and dropping swiftly behind the hills surrounding the house, the temperature in and around the house fell rapidly as there were no clouds to keep in any vestige of warmth. Shivering slightly Fred and Joe clapped their freezing hands together; surely the Earls guests would be arriving soon? Preferably before they froze to death?

"How long have we been out here now mate?" Joe finally managed to ask, his teeth chattering so loudly that, Fred had so stifle a giggle.

"I don't rightly know, but I know if we have to stand here much longer the Earl will be getting some very realistic looking snowmen in time for Christmas!" Fred retorted, forcing his chilled hands under his arm pits to keep warm.

Fortunately for them, at that moment Reverend Postlebery's carriage appeared on the hillside, causing the shivering footmen to cry out with relief. It was at that moment that the under-butler arrived, looking smart and surprisingly punctual.

"How does he do that?" Fred muttered to Joe.

"Simple" Adams replied, a smug expression on his face. "Unlike you wee idiots I use me brains. If you stand on the main staircase you have an ample opportunity to spot a carriage in the distance and yet remain nice and cosy indoors!"

However before Fred could retort the Reverend's carriage had swung in front of the house and the footmen scurried to open it and assist the somewhat portly preacher from his carriage, but as they were doing so the folder the Reverend was carrying slipped from his grasp and the contents spilled out all over the driveway. Immediately the footmen and under-butler stooped to gather the flying papers, assuming that it was the usual Sunday sermon and alms requests the preacher delivered to the Earl for his approval every week. However it quickly became apparent that this was not the case, and the staff had to struggle to suppress their giggles as they quickly gathered the papers together, Fred taking the time whilst the Vicar was distracted to pocket one of the pictures for closer study later.

Adams then ushered the now crimson Reverend through the door and into the drawing room, where most of the other aristocrats were gathered, with a tightly bound smile, allowing the two footmen to finally crease up with laughter.

"Er Fred let us have a look!" Joe whispered, having spotted his friend pocketing one of the pictures earlier.

Nodding his head slightly Fred waved Joe over to one of the side corridors, once they were sure they were alone Fred fished out the picture.

"Urgh mate that's disgusting!" Joe exclaimed through his giggles.

"I know this was definitely the worst, why do you think I picked it!" Fred sniggered.

"Can a woman really do that?" Joe asked intrigued.

"Well I hardly think I'm the person to ask!" Fred retorted.

"I don't know if you were to show that to Isabel she might give it a go!" Joe suggested sniggering into his hand.

"I might, might I!" Replied a voice from right behind them.

Whirling round the pair saw the maid in question standing a few feet way, tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed and an expression of annoyance on her face. "Well hand it over!" She demanded.

"Oh no…It's nothing...well not for a lady's eyes!" Fred stuttered.

"Why don't I be the judge of that!" Isabel hissed, striding forward and seizing the picture from Fred's hand. For a second the lad's held their breath, expecting her to scream and alert the whole house, but instead she simply raised and eyebrow a slight twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth. "You had it up the wrong way round!" She replied handing the paper back the right way to Fred. "Oh and before you ask, yes women can do that!" She added staring at her favourite footman with obvious interest. "If you have a spare moment this evening Mr Matkin I'd be delighted to give you a demonstration, on a few conditions of course!"

Smiling broadly now Fred closed the distance between them, leaving Joe to glance around awkwardly feeling all of a sudden like a prize gooseberry. "What conditions would these be?" He asked saucily.

Smiling sweetly Isabel leant forward and whispered into Fred's ear, her suggestions immediately sending the Footman's eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling. For a second after she pulled away Fred appeared speechless, gulping slightly as he tried to regain control of his thoughts. "You're on." He replied his voice somewhat more strained than usual. "How about the Pastry at around ten?"

"I'll be there!" Isabel added, smiling dangerously and causing Fred to swallow nervously, as he realised just what he had let himself in for.

"Well mate!" Joe said, finally breaking his awkward silence as Isabel disappeared up the stairs. "Since you're getting a live enactment, I don't suppose I can have the picture, I mean I've got two weeks before my next afternoon off?"

Dumbly Fred handed it over without a word, his usually jovial expression declared missing in action. Puzzled Joseph nudged Fred sharply in the ribs. "Why the long face Freddy boy? You're on a promise there; surely whatever she suggested can't be that bad?"

"Wait and ask me that in the morning!" Fred replied, as the pair turned and headed off down to the servants quarters.

Meanwhile upstairs Grace and Flora were finally getting the children into bed; Jennifer having recovered from her bout of measles was back in the nursery with the others. So finally after supper and their baths all four of them were slowly being tucked into their beds, however despite this none of them showed any inclination of actually going to sleep, instead demanding a bed time story from the housekeeper. Sighing slightly Flora pulled up the fireside rocking chair and asked Jennifer what story she wanted to hear. It wasn't long before all four were engrossed in Flora's rendition of Snow white, cowering under the covers at the scary parts of the story and laughing out loud at the antics of the seven dwarfs.

Early on in the story Grace had been roped in to assist the housekeeper by playing Snow white, the children's teddy bears and dolls had been cast in the roles of the dwarfs, whilst Flora put on her best cackle for the wicked Queen. Half way though the performance the troupe had been momentarily interrupted by Emily Corey, who had originally been looking for Grace and ended up staying and watching the second half; her eyes barely leaving the face of the housekeeper as she watched her come alive whilst playing with the children.

However just as the story was coming to an end, with Snow white lying on the hill top about to be brought back to life by the kiss of a handsome prince, the nursery doors swung open and in stormed Lady Francesca. Immediately her eyes swept across the untidy room and her still awake children before coming to rest on the housekeeper, who returned her glare without flinching.

"Mrs Ryan!" Franny exclaimed. "What is going on in here? You have strict instructions that my children are to be in bed by six o'clock and now it is approaching eight!"

"They weren't tired your ladyship." Flora simply replied.

"That is not the point!" Franny spat back. "If I say they are to be out the way by six, then that is what will happen!"

"Well what would you suggest? That we tie them to their beds or perhaps drug their milk?" Flora asked a completely innocent expression on her face, contradicting the obvious sarcasm of her words. 

For a second Franny stood their stunned turning and looking at the housekeeper as if she was seeing her for the first time. Unsure as to whether Mrs Ryan was being serious or making a joke at her expense, she paused for a moment before replying her small mouth twisting into an unpleasant grimace. Who did these unmarried women think they were telling her how to raise her own children, first Rebecca going behind her back to talk to Lord Hussey about her sister's lack of maternal care and the need to rehire the old nanny, but now some chit of a servant was questioning her authority as their mother. For a moment longer Franny glared at Mrs Ryan, her eye's flicking over the older woman disapprovingly, why was it everyone even a mere servant seemed to be blessed with better looks than her? Well, Franny thought to herself with sick satisfaction, lets see how long those fine looks remain once she is chucked out on the street for her cheek.

"Are you questioning my decision Mrs Ryan?" Franny hissed malevolently.

"Not at all Madam, however as you can see the children are still in their beds! They were in them beds as per your instructions by six, however as neither Miss May nor myself possess the abilities of the sandman…"

"How dare you talk to me in this manner? It's obvious to me now you were hired more for you good looks than your manners Mrs Ryan!" Franny retorted. "Knowing old Sturges-Bourne it must have been a most interesting interview performance that landed you such a respected position on so few real qualifications!"

For a moment Emily and Grace were convinced the housekeeper was going to explode and tell the trumped up little madam what she really thought of her, glancing over at Franny they could see the almost fanatical glint her eye as she egged the housekeeper on, urging her towards the precipice that would inevitable lead to the sack. However all of a sudden the iron mask that the housekeeper had developed over her many years in service clamped into place and her heated expression smoothed out to one that betrayed not a hint of emotion.

"Very good Madam, is there anything else we can do for you?" Flora asked her voice surprisingly calm and even.

"No just get my children to sleep, and no more stories, I do not want their young minds warped by this romantic claptrap you lower classes seem to be brought up on!" And with one final sneer at the servants present she turned and swept out the room without even bidding her children goodnight.

For a moment or two after she had left Flora stood perfectly still, her mask still in place not betraying a flicker of emotion, however all of a sudden Emily spotted her bottom lip start to tremble and pretty soon the her whole body was shaking. Glancing over at Grace to deal with the children Emily quickly walked over to the housekeeper, seizing her by the elbow and quickly frogmarched her from the room. As soon as they were away from prying eyes Emily let her go, watching for a second as Flora's expression changed rapidly from barely contained fury to threatening tears and back again.

"It's alright we're alone you can let it out now!" Emily muttered softly, quickly covering her ears as immediately after her suggestion the housekeeper let out a loud screech and began to stamp her foot to try and exorcise her temper.

"How dare she?...That woman is a… well she's inhuman…treating her children like cattle…and servants like dirt under her shoe…I just want to rip her head off, and give it to the footmen to play kick with!" Flora ranted finally gasping for breath as she leant against the wall.

"Feeling better now?" Emily asked jovially, as she moved to stand next to Flora.

"Yes much better!" Flora replied, unable to stop the tears that had sprung to her eyes now that her anger had disappeared. "She called me a whore, I'd never do something like that, sell myself for a position in a household, people don't really think that do they? I mean I know I was young for a housekeeper when I first started here, I hadn't had nearly as much experience as the other candidates and I wasn't expecting to get the job but I had always thought I succeeded because I was the best not because the Earl liked the way I looked?"

Chuckling slightly Emily patted Flora's hand reassuringly, "you were by far and away the best applicant my dear. However I must admit I do know your looks paid a part in your getting the job!"

"What!" Flora exclaimed.

"Oh not with the Earl, although I'm sure he wouldn't object to having a handsome housekeeper as opposed to an ugly one, the influence was more over a certain esteemed colleague of yours!"

"Walter?" Flora asked softly.

"Indeed, did he never tell you?" Emily asked, and when Flora shook her head, she continued. "When was the first time you saw my son?" She asked softly.

"The day I started at Taplows, he wasn't around on the day of my interview with the Earl as he was attending his business elsewhere." Flora replied confidently.

"That may be how you remember it my dear, but I can assure you Walter had seen you long before you had started at Taplows."

"How? When?" Flora asked intrigued.

Smiling at the delighted expression on the housekeeper's face Emily continued. "Before you became a housekeeper, you spent some time as a lady's maid did you not?"

"Yes I did but how did you…"

"Ahh, well it will all be revealed. About ten years ago just after Walter became Butler here at Taplows, the Earl still owned racehorses then, his late wife was very found of them I believe, well of course every time one of the blasted things was raced it was a cardinal rule that the Sturges-Bourne family would be their to show support."

"Yes but what has this got to do with me?" Flora asked impatiently.

"Patience my dear girl is a virtue. Anyway as I was saying, after these events it is and was customary for the local bigwigs to throw a lavish party and invite the important racing families along. On one such occasion it was the turn of the Harrington-Smythe family, now I believe you may have heard of them my dear?"

"Well I should I did work for them for almost ten years."

"Yes well it was at this particular function that a much younger Walter Corey caught his first glimpse of a certain lady's maid, I believe she was engaged in some high spirited skulduggery, at the time…involving egg throwing?"

"Oh no…Not the practical joke on our family jockey, it was traditional since he had actually managed to win a race for a change, but I don't remember seeing Walter?"

"Don't you? Can't you remember a certain irate gentleman in a top hat who your egg happened to hit instead of a certain jockey?"

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Flora exclaimed. "It couldn't have been, well I suppose it could, there were so many visiting servant's on those nights that you simply lost track. I got hauled over the carpet for that I even lost my position as lady's maid, if it hadn't been for Charlotte insisting I stay and they she'd train me as a housekeeper I'd have been sacked without a character.

"Yes, I know. At the time he had been so affronted that this beautiful young lady, who he had been watching for most of the evening, and just building up the courage to ask to dance, could impeach his honour so easily that I'm afraid he lost no time in informing your butler."

"The dirty snitch!" Flora huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes when he heard you'd lost your position he did feel bad about it, of course he had no idea you had subsequently been taken on as a trainee housekeeper! That's why he wrote to me, at the time I thought it was unusual him taking an interest in the affairs of a lady's maid not even from his own household. However that was an end to the story until about five years ago, when you came for your interview. At the time of your application Walter didn't know the name that went with your face, and so your application for the post got put through to the final short list purely on your own merit. Then when you came for interview he was indeed attending the Earl's business, but he was only in town and most surprised in the square to catch sight of a naggingly familiar face."

"I was trying to hire a trap to take me to Taplows!" Flora cut in.

"That's correct, but you were struggling." Emily added

"How do you…?" Flora began but trailed of when she saw the smug glance on Emily's face.

"Simple, as my dear boy has always hated not being able to solve a puzzle he trailed you for a while, it didn't take long before he had put two and two together, in fact it was at his suggestion or should I say insistence that a certain tradesman just so happened to offer you the use of his pony and trap free of charge."

"I thought he was just trying to get in with the new housekeeper!" Flora exclaimed

"Well I'm sure that helped, but then when he returned that evening Walter was able to finally put a name to the face, as a certain Flora Ryan was the only applicant being interviewed for the vacant housekeeper position that day. I'm not sure how he managed to influence the Earl, or whether he needed to do much at all, but afterwards he wrote to me saying that now he felt he had paid his debt to you, had removed the stain on his conscience that causing your demotion had created." Emily replied.

"Well I never, why did he never tell me?" Flora asked incredulously.

"I suppose at first he had no desire to implicate himself, after all it wouldn't look good the Butler interfering to get an old acquaintance a household position, and besides I think he was a little affronted…" Emily trailed off glancing down at the floor.

"Why?" Flora asked puzzled.

"That at your first formal meeting you showed no sign of recognising him, he was most out put about that, writing to me that he really shouldn't have bothered as the incident seemed to have made such a little impact on your life that you didn't even remember the face of your target, whereas he had spent time over the years wondering what had happened to you when he needn't have."

Chuckling slightly Flora retorted. "That sounds like Walter! I had no idea that was why he was so frosty with me; I thought it was because my work wasn't up to his high standards and so I spent months trying to second guess his every move, trying to prove myself worthy of my appointment."

"Oh I don't doubt it my dear!" Emily added chuckling slightly herself.

"I wonder…." Flora began but trailed off suddenly.

"What do you wonder?" Emily asked softly.

"How different our lives would have been if either he'd asked me to dance earlier in the evening or if my aim wasn't so lousy?" Flora added wistfully.

"We will never know my dear, but put it like this if it wasn't for your poor aim and Walter's pride then it is possible that the two of you would never have been as close as you're now, you might have had the pleasant memory of a night of romance with a handsome visiting servant but there wouldn't have been the chance for a husband and a family that you have now, if only you'd make up your mind to take it." Emily added, her eyes practically pleading with the housekeeper.

Suddenly uncomfortable Flora pushed away from the wall and began to tidy one of the nearby flower arrangements, her thoughts automatically flying back to the night before and her concerns about a not impossible impending pregnancy. Softly Emily walked over to the housekeeper laying her hand on her arm. "He loves you and you love him, that's obvious to anyone, I know you're afraid of another miscarriage Flora but all this indecision is destroying you both. Why don't take the chance of being happy, so much has happened to bring you two together it would be such a shame if now after everything you loose one another. Can't you go to him tonight, whatever happens with a family at least if you're together then you have each other? After all he's been waiting for you for so long, and I don't just mean since the accident, but it seems like he's been waiting for you all his life don't torture him anymore!"

Turning round Flora smiled softly at Emily taking both her hands in her own. "I'm afraid you're too late…"

"It's never too late!" Emily cut in insistently. "If you really love him you can work anything out."

"No I didn't mean too late for me and Walter, I meant you're too late for this little chat, if we had spoken yesterday then…." Flora trailed off catching Emily's surprised expression and grinning saucily.

"Please tell me you're not kidding!" Emily asked excitedly.

"I'm not kidding!" Flora replied seriously, "Not that one night solves all our problems, but it did make me realise just how much I need his love, so perhaps that's the first step?"

"Down the aisle?" Emily asked hopefully.

Laughing at Emily's dogmatic persistence Flora turned and walked down the hallway. "How can we since he hasn't got round to asking me!" She called back over her shoulder, leaving her future mother-in-law to both smile and inwardly fume over her son's inability to do anything right.

Excellent. Finally darkness has descended over Taplows, and this makes him very happy indeed. Revenge will be sweet, delectable, scrumptiously mouth-watering in fact. He knows he won't be missed for a few minutes, and anyway he is due for a break – well, not quite but he has worked for these aristocratic types long enough to know that when left in each other's company with a brandy and cigar, even if it is only late afternoon, they will be pretty much content until the dinner bell sounds. And besides, he knows where they're kept. Both of them. He had worked long enough at Taplows to know their exact location. Although he only needs one of them – yes, just the one will be perfect for the job. It won't be missed, how could it be? It's not as if the Earl looks at them all the time, he could have the 'borrowed' one back in its place and nobody would suspect a thing.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he makes his way up the main staircase, not a soul in sight. The thought of revenge should have produced a broad smile on his face, but his mood only darkens further as he approaches the Earl's room, his breathing quickening as the adrenalin begins to pump through him at the thought of what he is about to do.

How could she have done this to him? After everything! Stringing him along like that, actually gaining his affection, leading him to believe that it was all over with that good for nothing idiot when in fact it had really been obvious that she still has feelings for one man. And that man, it is certainly clear, is not him. She had been so keen too – so up for it, desperate for him, actually letting him touch her like that. Had it all meant nothing! He has to admit that he himself is far better looking than the real object of her affection, how blind – literally - could she be? Can't she see that they are made for each other? A woman like her, so passionate and fiery, needs a man like him with equal strength of character to sustain her. That lover of hers may have been nice to him to start with but now, well, now is a different matter completely. Why did she have to lie, to say that it was all over between them, convince him he was in with a chance, when all the while she felt nothing for him? To make it so cruelly plain to him in such a thoughtless and unnecessary way?

Hovering in front of the door he grits his teeth and clenches his fists for a moment – not because he is having second thoughts, far from it, but because once he has hold of the necessary item he isn't sure whether he can actually trust himself with it to only use it as part of his plan. What if he comes across HIM in the meantime, while it is in his possession, how could he be sure he won't feel compelled to use it? Shaking these thoughts from his head, he reaches for the door handle, slowly turning it before slipping silently inside.

Suddenly, the desperation takes over. For a moment, he can only stand and gape, his mind in a whirl and the sweat beginning to bead across his forehead and palms. With a deep breath, he dashes over to the painting of the first Earl of Taplow, lifting it carefully off the wall and placing it on the Earl's bed. He can't help but smile in the simple revelry of his local knowledge, he had served the Earl long enough in his room to know exactly where the safe is, and it would have taken a complete fool not to have memorised his combination code after so many times of having it opened in front of him. His Lordship must have not even considered for a moment any servant would have the brain capacity for remembering simple numbers if he ever wanted to, or even the safe's contents. And the Earl really had chosen the simplest of combinations – his bloody birthday, for Christ's sake! With a slight chuckle, he twists the combination lock to the six figures in question, and then……nothing. He tugs, his smile fading rapidly, cursing under his breath. Damn it, the stupid old toff has changed the code! What else could it be? Lady Caroline's birthday? No, that's not working either!

Don't panic, man, just keep calm, it can't be that difficult, surely not. But after trying various numbers, it becomes apparent that it will in fact be far more impossible than he could have imagined. He thumps the safe hard in frustration, almost wanting to cry with the hopelessness of the situation, but to his absolute horror he hears the Earl's voice echoing down the hallway, coming closer and closer. In panic, he replaces the picture the best he can in the small amount of time left to him and hurriedly dives under the bed, unable to think of another plan quick enough. Sure enough, His Lordship barges into his room, waving away his valet and grumbling something to himself. Once alone, the Earl pulls out a small box from his pocket, standing right next to the bed, only his feet visible to the hidden servant until he moves away and towards the painting and the safe! The desperate servant thinks quickly – maybe the Earl is going to use it?

With his heels visible now, obviously with his back to the bed, the Earl chuckles to himself as the servant shifts himself slightly from under the bed, eager to a clear view of him. Fortunately, the Earl's mirror is positioned just so he is in its reflection, and therefore his right side, and the painting, becoming clearly visible to anyone with their back to him. The servant strained his eyes so he could see, and to his intrigue to Earl opens the small box and smiles at its contents. He places it on the sideboard momentarily, then lifts off the painting, placing it on the bed then proceeding to unlock the safe using the combination which is so desperately needed by another. The servant, half leaning under the bed, watches the combination carefully, frantically making a mental note of it, his eyes quickly falling on the box with its shining contents – a beautiful diamond firmly encased in a gold ring. That couldn't be for? No, surely not! The combination securely locked in his memory, he waits as the Earl caresses the ring – almost as if it were a beautiful woman - then places it in the safe, locking it securely, replacing the painting. Swiftly, the servant rolls back under the bed and watches as the Earl's feet move from the safe and out of the door, roaring his orders as he goes.

Once safe in the knowledge that he has gone, his voice muffled down the hallway, he climbs out from under the bed, brushing himself down and wasting no time he practically rips the painting off the wall, throwing it onto the bed with little regard for it, and sets immediately to work on the safe, twisting the dial swiftly yet accurately until to his delight it springs open. He sucks in a whistle, his eyes widening in amazement. The safe is pretty much full to the top, and if he were going to rob it he wouldn't know where on earth to start. As he rifles through box after box he finds all manner of jewellery, including a stunning diamond necklace, quite obviously worth a fortune. Goodness knows why the Earl had never pawned it to try to rake back some of his fortune, but then again it may have been something the bailiffs would have had every right to take, so keeping it safely locked in the safe would have secured it in the Earl's possession

Ah-ha!

Here they are, the little beauties. Just what he had been looking for. At this point, he could very well have thrown his head back and cackled, but with a shaking hand he pulls out the highly polished oak box and lifting the metal catch opens it, the two French duelling pistols snug in their velvet holders, the round ammunition nestling next to them. He had been there when Admiral Dalrimple-Sykes had presented them to the Earl, and in his excitement had even shown him how it would have been loaded. He had told him that they were one of the prizes from a 'frog ship' taken during the battle of Copenhagen; he had only been 19 and a midshipman at the time but his captain had given them to him as a memento for fighting so gallantly. They are indeed elegant, fancy gold patterns threaded round the handles. They had never been used before according to the old Admiral, and it seems almost a shame to take one and use it, to desecrate it, destroy its innocence. The poetic justice of using such a feminine, slender and aesthetically pleasing thing against the woman of his dreams makes him want to burst into tears.

Shakily he snatches out the ammunition and unsteadily stuffs them into a small bag in his pocket, then wraps his jacket around one of the pistols, selected entirely at random. He replaces the box at the back of the safe, his hands so quivering so much he nearly drops the 'borrowed' pistol, and hurriedly shuts the safe, twisting the dial randomly. But for all his nerves, he is convinced that it is still the right thing to do. Well, if he can't have her, then no man can. And certainly NOT any other servant under the Taplows roof.

Later that evening and the senior staff were finally gathered around the dining table in Mrs Ryan's office for dinner, the housekeeper herself had arrived somewhat late and so was considerably behind everyone else. The butler who had of course missed breakfast, most of lunch and of course afternoon tea was tucking into his meal like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks. Across the table Emily and Felix exchanged exasperated glances at the butler's complete lack of table manners, but since Felix wasn't talking to him after the debacle with the cake and Emily had promised not to interfere both refrained from actually commenting. After quickly swiping at his mouth with his napkin, Jarvis returned to the second most pressing dinner table past time, that of gazing longingly at the housekeeper. He couldn't understand why she wasn't sitting by his side, after the night before surely they were back together? Perhaps her distance wasn't due to him but because of Bridgette, who had developed the habit of always sitting next to him and chatting pleasantly in French for most of the meal.

Perhaps that was it, he knew how jealous Flora could become and the fact that she couldn't understand what they were saying must also have troubled her; so maybe the solution was to offer to teach her some basic French, even have her sit in on the lessons so she could see for herself that nothing improper had passed between Bridgette and himself. Yes that was the solution; he'd make a point of asking her after dinner. That decision made Jarvis relaxed back into his chair a satisfied smile playing over his lips as he replayed in his mind their activities from the night before, oblivious whilst the rest of the other staff slowly drifted out.

Gazing at Flora now all prim and proper, delicately sipping at her soup no one would ever have guessed the wildly passionate woman that lay beneath, and no one ever would except him; that thought caused Jarvis to grin maniacally, she was all his. It was at this moment that Flora looked up at him and Jarvis simply couldn't resist gazing at her saucily his eyes openly raking over her body, leaving her in no doubt as to what he was thinking about. Seemingly unable to tear her eyes completely away, Jarvis had to resist the desire to giggle as he spotted that all familiar blush creep into her cheeks, delighting the butler more than any saucy wink. Determined to make the most of this the Butler leant into the middle of the table and seized a handful of grapes from the arrangement, he then proceeded to eat each one in the most sexually provocative of ways, his delight growing as he saw Flora's blush deepen and spread down her neck.

It was at this moment as Jarvis whilst was wondering whether he could get away with physically carrying Flora off upstairs for an early night, that Bridgette who was now the only other staff member left and who had been unusually quiet for her spoke up.

"Walter… Would you give me one now?…a lesson, I feel we have been neglecting them, there are so many area's, err ou do you say… on which I need your skilled guiding hands." Bridgette added, causing both the housekeeper to practically choke on her mouthful of soup, before glancing up and glaring at Bridgette in an unmistakable glower of fury.

"Urrr, well…" Jarvis began.

"Please, it needn't take to long, et apres we could give your French tongue a good going over, Je crois that despite your admirable abilite avec the basics et the excellent grasp you have that you would benefit from complete immersion, and there is no one better than moi to give that to you! Perhaps we should adjourn somewhere more private, where there can be no disturbances and we can get down to it without all these curious onlookers?"

"Alright, but are you sure you have time to fit me in?" Jarvis asked quite innocently, his nervousness exacerbating when on glancing over at Flora he could see her face becoming more and more furious, her bottom lip starting to quiver. "Perhaps Mrs Ryan you would care to join us?" He added.

This was the final straw for Flora it was bad enough having to listen to that woman proposition her Walter, and for him to seemingly accept but for him to even suggest she might want join them! Fuming slightly Flora got to her feet slamming down her napkin she began to gather the plates and bowls together, scooping them together with such force that Jarvis was surprised they hadn't shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Well Mrs Ryan," Bridgette added, "As I said earlier I would be more than delighted for you to join us, it would make us all closer, ne c'est pas?" She asked, raising her eyebrow saucily and smiling at the livid housekeeper.

Furious Flora began to physically shake, before suddenly an idea for revenge sparked in her brain. Walking towards Bridgette, Flora managed to quell her anger plastering a smile on her face, and then as soon as she was about a foot away Flora pretended to trip, sending the remainder of people's soup over the diminutive maid.

"Toi chienne!" Bridgette exclaimed jumping up from her chair and seizing her napkin trying to repair the damage, but it was too late the oxtail soup had succeeding in staining patches of her light blue dress.

Understanding what Bridgette had called Flora and not being prepared to let anyone talk about his darling like that Jarvis automatically stepped forward to defend her. "How dare you call…"

"Oh save it Walter!" Flora sneered. "Like you don't know what this whore has been up to?"

"Now Flora you know I don't like language like that…."

"Like what Walter? I only believe in calling something by its real name!"

Screaming, incensed by Flora's attack Bridgette seized her glass of water and threw the contents in the housekeeper's face. For a moment Flora stood stunned before launching herself forward at the maid, however before they could really start to scrap Mr Jarvis stepped in. Seizing Flora firmly round the waist he picked her up slightly, causing her to kick her suspended feet around in annoyance trying to break his grasp. Quickly he turned around and depositing her on the other side of him, so he stood like a referee in between the cursing pair.

"Now ladies let us sort out this misunderstanding like civilised adults."

"Misunderstanding? You think this is all some silly misunderstanding?" Flora retorted enraged.

"Yes of course, Flora you mustn't be so sensitive, I understand what some of Bridgette's phrases would imply if we took them literally, but that's because of her poor English, it is not her fault so please apologise!" Jarvis replied placatingly.

"Apologise to her? You have to be joking you may think she's all sweetness and light but I've seen what she can be like, she told me clear and blatantly that she interested in you, and I'm not talking curiosity, and then she had the nerve to suggest we might draw up some arrangements between the two of us, some sort of rota, and then perhaps on weekends all three of us might enjoy each other's company!"

Astounded Jarvis turned to Bridgette.

"It's not true! She's lying, she just jaloux that we have so much in common, elle ne comprendre pas que men and women can be only amis, et ainsi she wants to cut you off from everyone else by bullying them away! What I meant was partager your time, that your being amis avec moi wouldn't have to affect your relationship with her but she's so blind with jaloux she accuses me of being a whore."

"Oh I could think of a lot worse things to call you!" Flora exclaimed trying desperately to claw her way past Walter and show that trumped up little madam just who was the alpha female in this household.

Exasperated and confused by the accusations and counter accusations flying around him, and tired from having to physically prise two apart and keep them so. Jarvis turned to Flora his face red and his temper roused. "You will apologise, whatever misunderstandings and accusations, however correct or incorrect…" Jarvis cut Flora's protest off, raising a hand stallingly. "You are still the most senior female figure in the household and as such it is inappropriate for you to behave like a common fish wife!"

"How dare you talk to me like that! You can't make me apologise and although I may have gone about something's in the wrong way there is no way I am apologising to the strumpet!" Flora replied her attention and anger shifting from the maid to Walter.

"You will do so!" Jarvis replied seizing her firmly by the shoulders. "I am ordering you to apologise and then we will hear no more of this nonsense!"

"Never!" Flora hissed her jaw set in a determined lock. "You can't force me to do anything, unless you're threatening me with the sack?" She taunted.

"You know I wouldn't, but there are other ways…"

"How hypocritical, why don't you cast your mind back over your own record here at Taplows, just how many of the other male member's of staff have you fought with? Besides how would you go about punishing me, its not like public flogging is allowed anymore; of course you could always put me over your knee and spank me if I behave in a way you consider inappropriate!" Flora retorted her face now only inches from the butler's.

"Now that is the first sensible word I've heard you utter since you entered this room!" Jarvis retorted dragging the stunned struggling housekeeper over to his chair.

"Perhaps I should have done this months ago, then we might have avoided that childish nonsense of yours! Perhaps all the time what you needed, or wanted was someone to take control, to show you who was really in charge?" He added as he gave up on trying to pull her over his knee and settled for shaking her by the shoulders.

"Apologise!" He growled, but stubbornly Flora shook her head swearing under her breath at them both in Irish. "I mean it Flora!" Jarvis warned but still she remained unrepentant.

"How dare you!" Flora spat out, managing to break his hold on her and whirl round to face him. "How dare you believe her over me, and how dare you chastise me like this, I'm not a child, hell I might even be carrying one by now, carrying your child and still you think it right to carry on in this manner?" She asked breaking free from his iron grip.

"Well what you prefer?" Jarvis growled walking over to her, causing the housekeeper to back up against the table.

"To be treated like your equal for a change!" Flora snapped.

Jarvis harrumphed at that causing Flora's temper to get the better of her and lashing out she slapped him hard around the face. For a moment they both stood there in stunned silence, Jarvis raising a hand reflexively to his throbbing cheek, Flora backing away slightly afraid of his reaction, their eyes locked neither prepared to give an inch. For a second the tension in the room was palpable and Bridgette began to inch towards the door, vowing never again to get in between such a couple.

However instead of slapping her back as Flora had expected Walter still continued to stare at her, and for a second she saw his eyes drop from her eyes to her heaving chest and then back again; and this time when their eyes meant every trace of anger had been replaced by unadulterated lust. It only took a second longer before he lunged towards her, wrapping his arms round her waist and pulling her against him his mouth descending onto hers hungrily, possessively claiming her lips as his hands ran up her back and into her hair dragging the clips out of it before running his fingers through it wildly.

Gasping for breath when his lips moved to claim her neck Flora shuddered at the sensation, running her hands across his back and clawing at his jacket, she finally found her voice. "Shouldn't we go up…." But her words were cut off sharply when an impatient Jarvis leant down and scooping her up into his arms placed her gently down on the table before impulsively sweeping the remaining cutlery and crockery off it's surface and then pushing Flora down against it, he began to make love to her with all the pent up passion and desire that had been building during their months of separation.

- - -

Sitting on his bed in his quarters, he hangs his head and sighs. His cuts and bruises are still hurting, although he had found earlier in the day that lying on the floor actually helped the throbbing in his ribs, odd as it may seem. Since Flora had slapped him and told him that under no circumstances must they encounter physical relations again, yet alone embark on a lasting relationship, he had almost considered doing something stupid – very stupid indeed. But what would really be the point in that? Why give Adams the pleasure of being right about him all along? With a huge sigh, William Forest drags himself to his feet, his legs weary and his head throbbing after being slammed into the wall, and the chair, and wherever else the stupid Scotch idiot had decided to throw him. 

Quickly he checks his hair in the mirror, examining the large bruise on his cheek, and thinking that maybe – just maybe – Flora would now be sobbing her heart out over him, realising that she had made a huge mistake and that she wants him right there, right now, on the upper servants' dining room table. With a slight chuckle at this naughty thought, Will throws open the door and steps out, almost walking straight into Frank who is storming down the corridor, his brow furrowed and deep in thought.

Frank looking up and glaring at Will, his eyes piercing: Oi, watch where you're going why don't you!

Will holding up his hands in surprise: Alright, alright, calm down, mate! What's the matter with you, woman trouble, eh?

Frank lunging at Will, stopping just inches away from him: None of your damn business, and I'm not your 'mate', go it!

With a deathly stare, Frank slowly passes Will, their eyes locked in battle, but eventually the footman blinks and looks away, the hint of something terrible in Frank's eyes sending a chill down his bruised spine. For some reason, Will can't help but be drawn to Frank's jacket – he seems to be holding himself slightly awkwardly, his jacket pulled around him rather than buttoned up, but as soon as Frank spots Will's suspicious gaze he sneers at him and hurries down the corridor, almost tripping over his own feet. For a moment, Will considers following him, but shakes his head, changing his mind at the last moment. Well, he has better things to be doing than spying on Frank Keneally, namely a certain woman to find. He would do anything rather than let her go, go back to HIM. Well, if he is quick about it maybe he could convince her this time that she would be making a huge mistake? 

Frank's mind has gone blank. Completely. Temporarily he can't remember exactly why he's standing outside Adams' room. He hardly even knows the man. Ah, but of course, there IS a reason. He could have been good friends with Andrew. Good old rough and ready, Glaswegian Andrew Adams, always up for a bloody scam, they probably could have gone into business, conned the whole of Tappleton in the end, become rich and then he could have made a swift getaway with the whole lot, leaving Adams to face the music on his own. But, sadly, this little idyllic dream isn't meant to be. Such a shame, really it is. With a sly smile, he knocks on the door. He had heard Adams say to Lady Rebecca that he would come to her at 8 o'clock, and as it is ten minutes to it is a fairly safe bet he will be preening his ugly self in preparation, and that makes him sick to his stomach. 

The door opens quickly and Adams appears in front of him, busily retying his neck tie and looking rather put-out at the intrusion, but when he sees that it is Frank he smiles falsely, waiting for him to talk. For a moment Frank just stands in front of him, his hand inside his jacket, a hollow look on his pale face, but sweat begins to form and trickle down his temples as his insides churn over in anticipation

Adams adjusting his collar and frowning: Frank? Anything wrong, laddie? You look like you've at least lost a guinea and found a sixpence! 

Franks' eyes narrow and without warning his hand flies into view, clutching a pistol which he thrusts into Adams' chest, pushing him backwards into the room and causing him to stagger into his cupboard, forcefully banging his leg on the corner and yelping in pain and shock at the situation. Why the hell would Frank Keneally be threatening him with a pistol, without any provocation from him? Surely he can't be upset over bloody Will Forest, he doesn't even like him!

Frank hissing, slamming the door behind him and locking it, still waving the pistol at Adams: Get back! Into the chair! I'll use this if I have to, it's loaded and ready to blow ye brains out!

Adams gasping, unable to form a coherent sentence: B….but….I don't understand….put the gun…..Frank!

Frank clenching his teeth tightly, his nostrils flaring: I know where you're going, who you're going to! I've seen ye! Seen ye with her, touching her, kissing her, what gives you the Goddamn right, eh! EH! 

Adams falling back into the chair, staring in disbelief and gaping: Who? Who do you mean!

Frank sniffing out a snide laugh and curling his lip in disgust: Oh, you know damn well who! Lady Rebecca of course! Told me you and her were finished, she did! Strung me along like some eejit, flirting, laughing with me, telling me all ye  
dirty secrets!

Adams his breath catching in his chest as he begins to comprehend him: She wouldn't…..why the hell….YOU!

Frank pulling back the catch on the gun and pressing it harder into the under-butler's aching chest: Yes me, something a bit young for her, unlike you, why she'd go for an old bloke like you I've no idea, the Earl I could probably understand, a bit of cash, but she must have a bloody screw loose to think you're a bit of alright, although she did say you have something going for you in the bedroom department. I'm going to show her what a bit of the old Frank Keneally touch can do for her, then she'll forget all about you!

Adams breathing heavily now, glaring at Frank helplessly: Don't you go near her, don't you dare! I'll have you strung up I will, don't you lay a finger on her!

Frank smiling broadly and leaning in: How does it feel to be at someone's mercy for a change? Oh, I know what you do to Will Forest. Can't stand the bloke meself but seems like you're getting a little too comfortable with your old Glaswegian ways around here. It's me Rebecca wants, I can see it in her eyes, she lusts after me, and if she's anything like her sister between the sheets then I'm in for a real treat!

Adams almost sick with revulsion: Lady Francesca! You never did! 

Frank twisting the gun round and forcing it against Adams' head: Yes, not once but twice, gave her something to think about I did, she was desperate. Just like her attractive elder sister. She's shown me her little book of fun, all those positions, gagging to try them out with me, but all the while just holding back, only letting me caress her leg, peel off her stockings, nothing more…..

Adams diving out of his chair, but being forced back with a smack by the gun barrel: Lies! All lies! She loves me, not you, you're revolting, you're….sick! She wouldn't let you touch her, why would she? She's pregnant with MY baby, not yours!

Frank raising his eyebrows and snorting: Ah, there IS something the naughty minx didn't tell me! Well, well, Mr Adams, there's life in the old dog yet, eh? Not content with one illegitimate kid, you're now going for a whole brood! Ay, stay in that chair now Andrew, I don't want to have an accident with this. 

Still pointing the pistol at Adams, Frank begins to rummage through his drawers, pulling them out with one hand and frantically searching. By now the under-butler is pale and panting, his chest tightening and that familiar pain beginning to build up, but no he can't get sick again now, he HAS to be strong, strong for the woman he loves.

Keep calm….everything will be fine……he can get help soon, just let Frank do what he needs to do. Maybe Jarvis would turn up, demanding to know his under-butler's whereabouts – yes, that was possible. Just. 

The valet finds what he is looking for – a bunch of neck ties – then swiftly proceeds to grab Adams' wrists and bring his arms around the back of the chair, roughly but tightly tying the neck ties around his wrists and hands, binding them tightly against the chair

Frank his voice erratic and strained: Now, I know you were about to go to her, but ye see I can't let ye do that. I just can't. As it's my turn now. MY turn with her. Don't you agree that she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?

Adams gulping and wincing as the wrist binds dig into his bones: Yes, I do. You're right she is beautiful. So why would you want to hurt her, Frank? Shouldn't you let her be? If you care for her like you say you do, don't you think it's wrong to force yourself on her?

Frank pausing in front of Adams thoughtfully before snarling again: Oh, I see your game, MR ADAMS! Well, it won't work! She wants me, don't you understand! She wants ME! I'm not going to hurt her, I'm going to make her happy, give her all the bliss she deserves, just the two of us, in her room, while you sit here and keep quiet!

Adams dangerously quietly: Well, you know Frank, I just can't let you do that….

Suddenly, Adams swings his unbound leg round, ready to take the valet by surprise and knock him off his feet, but Frank's heightened nerves makes him more jumpy than ever and before Adams can use the full force of his leg Frank swings round and seizes it, twisting it painfully and jamming it against the chair leg. Quickly he snatches up one of the unused neck ties and pulls it so tightly around Adams' leg that he yelps in pain from the squeeze and burning sensation shooting up his calf and into his knee

Frank spitting in hatred and anger as he turns to tying the other leg: Don't you DARE try that again, Andrew, it's your last warning before I use this pistol, and don't think I won't!

Before Adams can try to reason with him, or even yell for help, Frank pulls off a pillowcase and roughly gathers it up, then gags Adams tightly with it. Good. So far, so good. The pleading in Adams' eyes still fails to move Frank, his emptiness consuming him so much that the love his rival feels for Rebecca doesn't interest him in the slightest. All he knows is that he is falling in love with Rebecca, that she must surely love him over Adams and that he needs to have her. Now. That night. With a hollow smirk, Frank slips the gun under his jacket again and unlocks the door, slipping out and shutting it behind him.

The only saving grace for Adams is that rather stupidly Frank, in all his planning, fails to lock the door behind him. And there, Andrew Adams is left alone, scared for his Lady, scared for their child, unable to bear the thought of another man with her, making her do things she doesn't want to do. Awful thoughts and images begin to race through Adams' tortured mind, how terrified she will be when he forces his way into her room, she'll probably be in her underwear, ready and waiting, thinking it is him who is tapping at her door not some crazed, sadistic Irishman with a pistol! She will call out for him, but there won't be a damn thing he can do! Oh, please PLEASE, won't somebody – anybody – find him before Frank finds Rebecca?

Rebecca smiles softly in the mirror, brushing her long hair over her shoulder, for the first time since finding out about her pregnancy and the diary feeling positively radiant and ready to welcome her lover with open arms into her bed. A small voice inside her tells her that everything will be fine, somehow she and her baby will be looked after, but nevertheless the worry about returning to Highlands and leaving Andrew fills her with dread, hardly wanting to think about the day she has to leave to marry Hugo. But for now, this night, things have to be perfect, and although all that Andrew has done haunts her, she knows that he never intended to hurt her, and she could forgive him the small indiscretion of Mrs Stanwick, after all she had been stringing Frank along something rotten.

She had sent Lizzie away for the evening, telling her that she deserves an evening off, but the maid had raised her eyebrows questioningly at this. But Lizzie decided is was best not to ask Rebecca if she is about to see her father, besides, that is hardly something she really wanted to think about, let alone put into words to her. So she had hurried off to find Grace for a gossip, leaving Rebecca to set out the candles in the room, change her corset and stockings and spray on Andrew's favourite perfume. Glancing at her clock, she notices that it is one minute to eight, and with one last flick  
through her little book, especially page 23 with the interesting left leg position, she moves onto her bed and lies back, resting her head on her hand and waits patiently. At one minute past eight, there is a tiny tap on the door – not Andrew's usual knock, but giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he is probably just being a little too eager to see her, she calls out to him to enter. The door slowly opens, Rebecca hardly able to conceal a naughty smile, until she sees to her shock who appears in the doorway.

Frank grinning slyly as his eyes rake over her semi-naked form: Hello, Rebecca. Surprise.

A few minutes later after she had managed to re-lace her corset and both fasten and smooth down her crumpled dress Flora Ryan knelt down on the floor and began to pick up the shattered remains of the dinner set. Sighing to herself she tried to concentrate on the task at hand and ignore the eyes of the butler as they bored into the back of her head.

"Why do you have to do that now?" Jarvis asked from his seat by the fire. "Why don't you leave it and come sit with me?" He added suggestively patting his knee.

"Oh for goodness sake Walter, don't be ridiculous, we've taken enough of a risk already this evening lets not push our luck!" Flora snapped back.

"Would it have been so terrible if we had been caught, in flagrante, as it where?" Jarvis asked teasingly getting up from his fireside chair and sauntering over to her, before kneeling down next to her and planting kisses on the exposed skin at the nape of her neck.

"You know perfectly well it would have been disastrous, imagine if it was your mother who had caught us, you'd never live it down, or worse if it had been Keneally, you know damn well we'd be up before the Earl and out on our ear faster than you can say Lord Julian Dalrimple-Sykes!"

"Hmmmm." Jarvis pondered thoughtfully before seizing the housekeepers scrabbling hands and tugging her round to face him. "Yes I know, but tell me…" He added leaning in closer, his eye's locked with hers. "Didn't that make it all the more exciting, the added danger, the sense of urgency and immediate desire?" He asked cocking one eyebrow and seizing her chin so she could not look away, smiling to himself at the tell tale blush that immediately stained her cheeks giving him the  
answer to his question. "I knew it, I mean I should have realised after last night, but you really are turning into a naughty minx!"

Swiping at his hands Flora released his hold on her and turned her attention once more to cleaning up the mess he had caused, shuddering slightly when Walter whispered in her ear. "Go on admit it Flora, you enjoyed the danger of it, you wouldn't say no if I wanted to do it again?"

"I might, unless next time you promise not to be so destructive; it was a wonderfully romantic gesture Walter but next time could you endeavour to find a table that wasn't full of expensive crockery and glassware?" Flora replied teasingly.

"Who said anything about a table next time?" Walter replied cheekily. "Je vous veux maintenant ; contre le mur, ou même sur le plancher." He added huskily causing Flora to shudder slightly with instinctive anticipation. "Somehow I don't think I need that translating!" She replied leaning forward and kissing Walter passionately.

A second later the butler got to his feet pulling the housekeeper up with him, he strode quickly over to her desk pulling open the drawers at random before selecting two pieces of paper, picking up a pen he quickly scribbled something but kept it hidden from Flora, he then quickly folded the paper up into four before thrusting the pen and the other piece of paper into the housekeeper's hand. Glancing up at the housekeeper's confused expression Walter smiled slightly before leaning forward and whispering softly in her ear, "write down where and how, then afterwards we mix them both up and pull one out at random, and that's the one we follow through!"

Blushing slightly, Flora ignored the little nagging worry over what on earth Walter had written, thinking for a moment, she smiled slightly having to resist the urge to chuckle at the complete irony of her selection before folding up her paper and handing it to the butler. "Alright I'm in!" She exclaimed playfully, tugging on the butler's waistcoat, "So who gets to pick?"

"Oh being the gentleman that I am I'd say ladies first!" He retorted mischievously wrapping his hands round her waist, before sliding them down her back to quickly squeeze her bottom.

Grudgingly releasing her Walter picked up the two papers, moving them behind his back and shuffling them out of her sight, once he was certain they were both mixed up he brought them back in front of her. For a second Flora pretended to be deciding, tapping her chin with her forefinger apparently deep in thought, causing Jarvis to raise an eyebrow in exasperation. Smiling softly at him Flora reached out and took the paper that lay in his right hand, bringing it slowly up to her face and opening it secretively, smiling in both surprise and delight, causing Jarvis to impatiently exclaim, "Well whose was it?"

"Mine!" She replied mysteriously before reaching down and seizing his hand practically dragging out the door, leaving the debris from dinner all over the floor.

"And where are we going!" Jarvis asked intrigued and delighted by her eager reaction.

"Wait and SEE!" Flora replied teasingly as they disappeared down the corridor and into the darkness.

Downstairs, and Adams' frantic mind is out of control, terrible thoughts of rape and death racing through his thoughts and causing him an horrific headache and a tightening chest which he refuses to succumb to. Approximately four minutes have passed since Frank had left him – he had watched the clock religiously in that time, while trying to think what to do on one hand and working out how long Frank would need to have his way with his Rebecca on the other. Nobody had passed his room in that time, NOBODY Goddamnit, and he feels more helpless than ever. He has managed to shuffle his way forward ever so slightly, but his entire body is aching and all it wants to do is give up and never move again. But no, he MUST reach someone.

His muffled grunts seem to be doing no good whatsoever, they sounded more like he was having far too much fun to be disturbed rather than anything. The only thing he can think of to do is to cause such a loud crash that somebody in the vicinity would have to hear him, think he has had an accident or another heart attack. With all his strength, Adams jumps himself and his chair over to the side of his chest of drawers and bangs himself painfully into it. It rocks ever so slightly, but not enough to make it topple, so again he uses his arm and shoulder to crash into it. This time it sways a little more than the last, so with the little energy left in him he throws himself at it one last time, and to his relief it crashes to the ground, unlit candles, books and a large jug smashing on the floor with such a ferocious clatter that he is most pleased with  
his efforts.

Seconds earlier, George had been stood in the corridor, pondering what to do next, and exactly how to do it. Proposing to Grace, well, it would be a huge step, and he had seen how it had turned out with Frank, but of course he is nothing like that toe-rag so what has he got to loose?

THUD! CRASH! CLATTER!

What the hell was that! Glancing up the corridor, George pauses momentarily, working out where it had come from. It seemed like either the footman's room, or Mr Adams' room, he isn't quite sure, so after briefly glancing in the footman's bedroom and seeing nothing he stops outside Adams' room, listening carefully. There is no further noise for a moment, but suddenly a loud grunting began, and George's eyes can't help but widen in wonder. Unsure whether this was an exclamation of pleasure, the footman wonders whether to just walk away, but the grunting turns into more of a wail, or a sob, and he suddenly becomes concerned that Adams may be suffering another heart attack

With a light but impatient tap on the door, George calls his name timidly, and rapidly the noise gets louder, almost desperate, so George tries the door and finding it unlocked peers around it. On seeing Adams' predicament, George barges in, a look of panic on his face, and his eyes lock with the under-butler's

Cut back to Rebecca's room

Rebecca grabbing her covers and sliding under them to hide her modesty: F…Frank! You shouldn't be here, I didn't say I would see you now! Can't you come back tomorrow, when I'm a little more decent? I'm actually just off to bed.

Frank edging into the room, his eyes wide in anticipation: Aren't you dressed like that for me, Rebecca? You must be, because you wouldn't be wearing such provocative attire for anybody else, would you?

Rebecca clutching the covers right up to her neck and shivering: Frank, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid there's been a development, you see Andrew and I, well, we're back together, and………

Frank slamming the door, causing Rebecca to squeal slightly, his voice turning dangerous: You lie! It's not true, you're not back with him, and I'll tell you why, because you love ME! You did a good job earlier, kissing him, pretending everything was fine, but I KNOW, don't you get it!

Rebecca's heart begins to thump loudly in her chest, as panic sets in and she moves further down into the bed, Frank slowly stepping towards her, a look of psychotic obsession in his eyes. For a moment she cannot think of anything to say, or anywhere to run to get away from him, but suddenly Frank's expression softens and he smiles, the gun still concealed in the back of his trousers under his jacket. Rebecca's wide-eyed terror never leaves her face, but Frank sniffs out a chuckle and leans over the end of her bed, her picture-perfect body writhing under the silk sheets

Frank loosening his neck tie, his voice soft yet empty and cold as stone: Rebecca, my darling, why do you look so scared? I'm not going to hurt you, all I want to do is…..well, show you how much I admire you, how strong my affection is for you. Is that so wrong of me?

Rebecca her voice reduced to a panic-stricken squeak: B…but I don't feel for you in that way, Frank. You have been a good friend to me, but I love Andrew, and I'm expecting him any minute, so I think you should leave. I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise, we can go for a ride, or a walk by the pond, we can discuss your feelings then, and………

Frank suddenly slamming his hand into the bed post and growling in fury: NO! That's NOT how it should be, Goddamnit! Andrew isn't coming to see you tonight! I'm here instead of him, and you will do my bidding and I will make you happy, make you feel like a real woman, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!

Cut back to Adams

George darting forward and untying Adams' hands: Mr Adams, don't hate him for this, he didn't know what he was doing, he was just upset………

Adams' frantic noises increase as he tries to tell George to ungag him first, but he just keeps wittering on to Adams' distress and frustration

George struggling with the knot: He's a good first footman you know, best there is, sometimes me and the other lads think you're a bit harsh, probably why he's been driven to this……oh sorry, you want me to ungag you? Just please spare him another beating, Andrew…..

Adams as George pulls off the gag with ease: For God's sake boy, it wasn't bloody Forest, it was Frank Keneally! Now get me untied!

George moving to the binds on Adams' feet: You been beating him up too, have you? Lord Julian won't like that, you know what a tell-tale he is too, after Mr Jarvis hit him he was straight up there, giving it all that, playing the innocent, sneaky little sod…..

Adams reaching down, frantically untying his other leg, his throat hoarse and dry: George, will you shut up! I didn't touch him, it's not me he's interested in, it's Rebecca! Lady Rebecca, he's gone to threaten her, he has a pistol, he needs to be stopped!

George dragging down the binds from Adams' leg: Frank? A gun! He's finally gone completely loony then! Doesn't surprise me really. Right, right, I'll get help, but why would he tie you up first? Did you catch him with the gun?

Adams jumping to his feet, now free, and dashing out of the door, wheezing: Stop asking questions, boy, and go fetch help, I must get there, must stop him!

George hurriedly following Adams down the corridor: What's his interest in Lady R then? Mate, you and her, are you together? Bloody hell, you are! Lady Rebecca, eh, very nice catch, don't tell Grace I said that though, mind. Don't worry, I won't go spouting it to Will, I have some sensitivity and tact sometimes y'know…….

Adams swinging round and grabbing George firmly by the arm: GEORGE, WILL YOU SHUT UP AND GO AND GET HELP!

At that moment, Will races up to them, his face like thunder, his eyes focused firmly on Adams' grip on George, but before he can start yelling in the under-butler's face about the treatment of his second footman, George jumps in and explains the situation. Will glances at Adams and can immediately see in his eyes his worry and urgency, and for a moment he can hardly believe what may be the truth about him and Lady Rebecca. Nah, that can't be true, he thinks, she'd have to be blind and deaf for that, must be a case of unrequited love or something. Well, for once he can sympathise with Adams, knowing exactly what it feels like, and if Frank is getting in his way, then woe betide him when Adams catches up with him.

Adams rubbing his chest as they approach the stairs, his breathing ragged: George, come with me, Will go and get help, find Mr Jarvis, and Mrs Ryan, Rebecca may need medical attention, oh if he uses that gun I'll kill him, no I'll kill him anyway! Cut to Rebecca's room

Rebecca nausea gripping her stomach: What have you done to him! What have you done!

Frank smirks, moving round from the post and slowly running his fingers up the sheets, skimming her shaking form as the cool silk ripples under his touch. He licks his lips as Rebecca whimpers, shuffling to the other side of the bed to get away from him, from that desperate gaze in his eyes, from the hand moving towards her. Frank removes his neck tie, gripping it in both hands and pulling it tightly in a threatening manner before tossing it aside and unbuttoning his collar, watching, emotionless, as the tears springing in Rebecca's eyes begin to roll down her soft, pale cheeks, heightening his arousal.

Rebecca her lip trembling in terror,her eyes anxious and frightened: W….what are you going to do? Frank, you're scaring me, please stop!

Frank sliding onto the bed, smiling, almost grimacing: Don't be scared, my sweet, sweet girl. There's nothing to be scared of. I just want to be with you, spend the night with you, is that too much to ask? You know you want me, you always have.

Rebecca begins to sob quietly, her pretty features contorted in alarm, but Frank reaches out and slips his arm around her shaking waist, sliding her firmly back down the bed and towards him. She struggles, snatching at his arms and hands to get him away, all she can think is that he may harm her baby and she needs to protect it, but he shifts his grip to her arms, pinning them down, never taking his eyes away from her face.

Rebecca turning her head away from him, the tears flowing freely: Frank, I beg you, don't do this! You don't want it to be like this, do you! If you love me then you will leave me be!

By now she can feel Frank's hot breath on her neck, the brush of his nose along her jaw bone as he reaches across her, and it makes her shudder to her very core, waves of nausea spreading up her stomach and into her throat. She can see an empty glass vase on the bedside table, if she could reach out she could grab it, hit him over the head with all the strength she could muster, knock him out and run for help, she just needs to distract him for one second, get him to loosen his grip. She knows what she has to do. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she prepares, letting him plant tiny kisses along her cheek and neck, his breathing becoming more erratic as he comes closer to the moment he has fantasised about for days

Frank whispering breathlessly as he moves his leg over hers: But you know you want this, deep down. You KNOW you do. You were all I thought about, your sister meant nothing to me.

Rebecca her voice reduced to a cracked, hoarse whimper: Francesca? What do you mean, Frank?

Frank giggling in childish glee, his kissing becoming more intense: When she invited me into her bed. And onto her chaise. I was with her physically but she was you, in my mind. Every inch of her, every touch of her naked body – it was all you, Rebecca. Don't you see?

Oh, you stupid, foolish girl, Rebecca scalds herself. How could you not see what this man is really like? How naïve! But she refuses to pay the price for her behaviour, so with a deep breath she turns her face towards Frank's, staring into his eyes. Yes, she had found him attractive and sexy, a bit of fun she could never really have, but now – now he is the most repulsive, unattractive man alive to her and she doesn't care what she has to do to get him away. Closing her eyes, not in pleasure but trying to focus in her mind's eye, pretend he is Andrew to get through it, and leans up and kisses him passionately, with such wild abandonment that Frank is momentarily stunned. But as the kiss intensifies, Rebecca can feel his grasp loosen ever so slightly, as she knows he is desperate to roam his hands over her. Slowly, so not to startle him and make him suspicious, she moans softly and pulls the important hand free, running it through his hair and pulling him down on top of her.

She knows she will only get a small window, one tiny chance, to put her plan into action, as Frank releases her lips and begins to slide down the sheets, tugging at her corset lace and kissing her collar bone. Now – do it now! Carefully, Rebecca reaches out, wrapping her hand firmly around the vase and lifting it, Frank's eyes distracted by the heavy rise and fall of her chest. As quick as a flash, Rebecca uses all the weight in her delicate arm to swing the vase crashing over Frank's head, but instead of falling on top of her unconscious, Frank rolls off her, blinking and crying out in pain and fury, his hands flying up to his head as blood trickles down his cheek and neck.

Seeing her chance, Rebecca leaps out of the bed and hurries to get out of the room, but in her haste she pulls the sheets off the bed with her and her feet become entangled, causing her to trip and tumble, the silk cushioning her fall. In his desperation to get up, she staggers forward and falls back onto her knees, the door seeming too far away as she begins to cry out for help. But Frank manages to recover himself in enough time to run around the bed, his vision slightly blurry and his head thumping heavily, and seizes a screaming and dishevelled Rebecca by her arms and drags her up, blazing fury spread across his face

Frank shaking her firmly, his voice a harsh whisper: Stop! Stop bloody yelling, will you! I don't mean to hurt you!

But Rebecca's struggles and continued screaming HAVE to stop, if he doesn't make her be quiet then Lord Julian may get the wrong idea and sack him, and he can't afford to loose his job. Before he can even comprehend himself, Frank smacks her firmly across the face, sending her flying back onto the bed from the force of it, and whips the pistol out, his hand shaking manically. Rebecca, in her shock, curls herself up and sobs uncontrollably, hiding her face away and hugging her stomach protectively. Oh, where is Andrew! And Hugo! Didn't anybody hear her at all!

Frank lunging forward and flinging Rebecca flat out on the bed, thrusting the pistol in her face: Now, that was just silly, wasn't it, eh! I didn't want to have to hurt you but you gave me no choice. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you trying to get away when all I want to do is make love to you? You've hurt me now, physically and emotionally, and I'm very disappointed!

Rebecca through her sobs, her voice jerky and uncontrolled: But Frank I've told you, I don't want to do anything like that with you, I don't love you!

Frank pressing himself further onto her, crushing her lungs: But then why were so you nice to me? Inviting me into your room, telling me all your secrets, showing me your naughty book, letting me take off your stockings and kiss your feet! Why? WHY!

Rebecca shutting her eyes tightly and gulping, tears soaking her chin neck: Because….because I knew, I knew that you were working for my sister, getting information from me and telling her everything, I wanted to throw her off the scent, make her think Andrew had broken it off…….

Frank: So you USED me! Made me think you found my attractive, when all the while you felt nothing!

Rebecca: I did find you attractive, you are, but not enough to make me want to…..I would have to love you for that, and I don't, there's no hope I will ever feel strongly for you. Andrew is everything to me……

Frank roughly shaking her and causing her to wail in fright: ANDREW! It's all about HIM! You may deny your feelings for me, but I'm sorry I can't deny what's in my heart!

Without warning, Frank suddenly begins to rip furiously at her underwear, his hand firmly over her mouth to stifle her cries as she struggles under him, but just as he begins to tug at his belt there is a thud at the door, and a muffled 'Rebecca!'. Frank's breathing increases and he grits his teeth, muttering 'no!' under his breath, but on hearing her name Rebecca increases her volume, wriggling and desperately trying to knee him in a sensitive area. The calls outside the door become more frantic, and the sound of the door being battered - yes it is Andrew's voice, thank God!

Meanwhile downstairs Jarvis was convinced Flora had dragged him round in circles all over the servants' quarters in order to wind him up, when finally she headed towards a specific door. Pushing it open she poked her head inside to make sure no one was lurking around before dragging the relieved butler in after her.

"Now I am intrigued! Why in the dairy room Flora, of all places?"

Pouting slightly at his question the housekeeper leant seductively back against the wall. "I'm both surprised and hurt you even need to ask that Walter, unless of course your memory is going?"

"My memory is as sharp as ever, but I can't recall this room having any particular significance!"

"Then your memory is playing tricks on you Walter dear, surely you remember? The day before you left for Cumberland?"

"Flora may I remind you, we did not get together until after I came back!" Jarvis replied confused, finally closing the distance between them. "However I now intend to make up for all that lost time!" He added leaning in to capture her parted lips.

However Flora wasn't going to let him get away with it that easily, placing her fingers softly over his lips she halted his advance. "Just because we didn't get up to anything in here doesn't mean it doesn't have a special significance…Well if you can't remember perhaps I should jog your memory. I was painting my white line and arguing with Mr Adams and then you turned up and ordered me to follow you. First you took me to the store room, patting a blanket suggestively and for a second I actually thought you were going to proposition me, but you didn't; then you dragged me off to the laundry and then finally we ended up in here! I remember it clearly you made a comment about being able to party in here all night without anyone else being the wiser, and I thought…." Flora trailed off smiling suggestively. "We should put your theory to the test!"

Chuckling at both her wit and inventiveness Walter leant in once more to kiss her passionately, a kiss, which this time she not only allowed but returned with enthusiasm. Breathlessly they broke apart, Walter's mouth moving the kiss his way down the pale skin of her throat, whilst Flora hurriedly began to loosen her dress just enough for him to slip his hands underneath and caress her already trembling body.

As soon as she had done this she slid her hands down in between them, unbuttoning Walter's trousers and sliding her hand inside, after a few moments Jarvis growled in her ear, "Flora Stop! Unless you want to be disappointed."

Giggling naughtily Flora gazed into his eyes but she still did not release him from her grasp. "Who said I wanted to wait!" She purred back at him. "Please Walter, don't you know it's rude to keep a lady waiting?"

- - -

Approximately twenty minutes later an out of breath William Forest ran blindly through the servants quarters, demanding from every servant he passed if they had seen the housekeeper, most just shook their heads and passed by the footman without a second glance. However William was finally in luck when he practically ran into Grace and Lizzie who were standing by the laundry gossiping away.

"Girls have you seen Mrs Ryan?" He managed to gasp.

"I may have William Forest. But give me one good reason why I should tell you?" Grace retorted, unable to believe the level of Will insensitivity asking after the housekeeper when poor Lizzie was right in front of him.

"Dear God Grace it's an emergency Mr Adams needs her upstairs like yesterday!" Will wheezed.

"Well I saw her go into the dairy but…." Grace trailed off, as Will didn't wait for her to finish before dashing off in the right direction. "But she's not alone…" She added softly, practically under her breath.

Meanwhile a giggling Flora Ryan and ecstatic Walter Corey were finally coming back to reality, after quickly fastening their clothes and making futile swipes to smooth down their ruffled hair, they headed to the door. Pushing it wide open Flora popped her head round into the corridor sighing in relief when she realised there were no horde of sniggering lower servants gathered outside. Letting out slowly the breath she had been holding she leant contentedly against the doorframe smiling softly at Walter as he walked over to her threading his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. Looking deeply into each other's eyes neither noticed the footman as he turned the corner, stopping dead in his tracks his heart jumping into his throat as he stood frozen unable to move or speak. He watched them as Flora swiped at the butler's wandering hands, her own moving to re-button his waistcoat correctly as he leant down placing tender kisses on her temple and then the tip of her nose. However this was not enough for Flora who chuckled slightly before wrapping her arms round Walter's neck pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

For Will their every shared loving look was like a knife in his heart, looking at them now it appeared as if they had never been apart, and that his brief interlude with Flora had meant nothing more to the housekeeper than a simple change of scenery, it was like a lone sandcastle trying to remain standing whilst been barraged by the full power of the North Sea in a storm. For a moment he considered turning and running back to his room, the purpose for his quest temporarily forgotten. However just as he was about to do so Jarvis leant back into the dairy, seizing their abandoned candle and began to escort the housekeeper along the corridor, and Will could just make out his muttered comment. "Well love your room or mine?"

However it was at that moment that the chuckling housekeeper glanced up and she caught sight of the furious footman standing in the shadows. For the second before Walter realised Flora stared into Will's devastated face, the young footman seemingly unable to tear his eye's away nor prevent the tears that sprung to his eyes; and in that second all her desire evaporated leaving her feeling cold and exposed. Suddenly realising Flora had stopped walking Jarvis looked up and caught sight of Forest standing and ignoring him but glaring at the housekeeper with such an expression of anger and despair that for the first time the depth of the boy's feelings for his Flora became obvious. Glancing over to Flora in order to discern if they were reciprocated, he was relieved to find only embarrassment on her face, and no indication of any deeper feeling.

However Will's angry stance still provoked an automatically defensive response from the Butler, and he slid an arm possessively around the housekeeper's waist tightening his hold on her. For a second Flora riled against this rather obvious gesture of ownership, however after glancing up at Walter's rapidly reddening face she realised the importance of reassuring him of her affection. Sliding her hand along his arm she threaded her fingers through his pulling them both further round her waist till they rested delicately on her stomach before squeezing his hand reassuringly. At this poignant gesture Walter glanced down at her, his eyes softening slightly as they locked with hers; reassured of her obvious affection for him he then turned his attention to the dumbstruck footman.

"Well Mr Forest, considering your urgency it must have been something important!" Jarvis barked.

For a moment Will stood still as if struck dumb, but then he managed to tear his eyes away from the housekeeper, looking at Jarvis for the first time, and the first thing the butler noticed was the complete absence of emotion as though the young man had suddenly gone into shock.

"Lady Rebecca, Keneally was hurting her, Mr Adams and George have gone to stop him but he sent me to find Mrs Ryan…" Will trailed off, ignoring the exclamations of shock from both Walter and Flora.

Immediately the lovers jumped in to action Jarvis moving to escort Flora to her office, however as they started down the corridor Will still didn't moved out the way. For a second Jarvis paused huffing slightly at the lad's lack of movement preparing to barge him gently out the way, however at the last minute Will moved out the way. Stepping back against the wall he slumped defeated against it, his eyes following the couple as they disappeared together into the darkness.

The banging on the door is getting louder, spurring Frank to grip Rebecca even harder, digging his fingers into her bare arm and causing deep bruising, but for Rebecca a few painful marks on her arm would be something to worry about only later. Somehow, knowing Andrew is outside the door and desperate to get in, she begins to find mammoth strength which she didn't even know she possessed in her delicate frame, pushing him with all her strength and the pistol looms in her face. She can hear 'Rebecca, I'm coming, don't worry!' from outside the door, but instead of making a dash for it out the window, Frank frantically unbuttons his trousers, determined to get his way with her before Adams could barge his way in and ruin it all. But Rebecca, noticing quickly that he is having trouble with his buttons, determines that his hold on the pistol must not be quite a firm due to the distraction, so risking the life of herself and her baby, she heaves her arm from under him and smacks a clenched fist hard into his lower arm, the pistol tumbling from his grip and down the side of the bed

Frank scrambling off her and leaning down the bed: You stupid, stupid cow!

Not willing to be the defenceless victim, Lady Rebecca clambers to her knees and with all her strength shoves him head-first off the bed before he can snatch back the pistol, quickly leaning down and clumsily picking it up and pointing it at him, still kneeling on the bed and shaking. Frank rolls onto his back, the blood from his head wound sticky and thick down his face and neck, and stares in absolute shock and fury.

Rebecca her voice steady and puffy red eyes full of fierce determination: Get back, Frank! Come near me and I will shoot you, to protect me and most of all my baby!

Frank laughing manically and shaking his head: You wouldn't dare! You'd face the noose for that!

Without a word, Rebecca slowly backs off the bed, Adams' yells becoming more desperate as he and George suddenly kick back the door, slamming it hard into the wall. They dash in, Adams first, and stop in their tracks when they see how the tables must have been turned. Rebecca, for the first time since obtaining the pistol, forces her eyes away from a grimacing Frank and locks eyes with Adams. Fresh tears spring into her tired, sorrowful eyes and Adams' love for his sweetheart feels so strong and the sense of relief so overwhelming he just wants to burst into tears himself. Looking back at Frank, Rebecca continues to point the pistol, as if lowering it would make her vulnerable again even though Andrew is there to save her, her soft face red from the vicious slap she had received and the constant crying.

Frank turning and laughing loudly at Adams: Oh, here he is, bloody lover-boy, come to rescue you, when all the while you were gagging for it from me, Rebecca! I know you like a bit of the rough stuff, a lot of slap and a bit of tickle, but really did you have to put on such a big act and cause such a noise when I was kissing you, running my hands over you!

George stares at Adams, wondering what on earth to do, but as he moves to restrain Frank, Adams lets out a roar of rage and flies at Frank, snatching him up by his open collar and dragging him over to the bed, Rebecca leaping backwards and shrieking. George can only stand, helpless and not wanting to stop Adams anyway, while the under-butler thumps Frank repeatedly in the face, the valet crying out in pain as his head lolls from side to side.

Rebecca backing towards the window, the gun still in her clutches: Andrew, don't, he's not worth it, please! He's sick, he's not well!

Adams kneeing him hard in the stomach and causing him to double over: Too bloody right he's sick! Sick and twisted!

George shutting the door and stepping forward: Yeah, maybe she's right, mate, you should stop, you'll only get yourself banged up.

Frank his speech slurred from his swollen, cut lip and painful jaw: You should listen to him, Andrew, you really should……

Adams his Scottish accent thickening as his anger increases: Don't you tell me what I should do, how dare you speak, you shouldn't even be breathing, showing a Lady no respect and holding me hostage!

Adams hauls Frank over towards the window, knocking George out of the way as he drags him by his arms, the valet struggling and bloody. The under-butler throws open the window, a blast of cold air rushing in and billowing the curtains, blowing out the candles around it and chilling Rebecca to the bone as she hurriedly wraps her dressing gown tightly around herself. With a growl, Adams roughly heaves Frank so he is half hanging backwards out of the window, the window sill digging into his spine as he gasps in the freezing night air, the stars twinkling brightly above him as fresh  
warm blood trickles from his new facial wounds.

Adams pressing hard on Frank, causing his back to crack and strain: Just one little accident is all it takes, Keneally! I could give you a helping hand out of this mess if you like, a little push perhaps, don't worry you wouldn't feel a thing. Well, not for long anyway. If you're unlucky though you'll probably die in agony from all those broken bones and a snapped neck!

Frank his voice choked and strained: You wouldn't get away with it, you know you wouldn't! Everyone would know it was you, you'd be taken away and spend miserable weeks being chewed on by rats behind bars before finally getting what you deserve with a bag over your head! Look, I'll do you a deal!

Adams spitting furiously in Frank's face: I don't do deals with the likes of you!

Frank smirking to hide the pain: Oh no? You sure, Mr Adams? I thought as long as there's some cash in it for you somewhere you don't care who you swindle, at least we have something in common there, ANDREW! I think you should listen to what I have to say – you know you can't kill me, not that I don't doubt your ability to do such a thing, but your cowardice will stop you! But at the same time, if you hit me one more time, and if you turn me in to the police, I won't be responsible for what I might say accidentally in front of the Earl, or any other aristocrat in the vicinity!

Adams shaking Frank in frustration: You little bd! After everything you've done, you expect me to just let you go? You expect Rebecca to not press charges against you!

Rebecca dropping the pistol to the floor: Andrew, don't let him ruin things between us, if people found out then……well I would be disgraced, as would our child, and most of all, I'd loose you. For good. You would be out of a job, and Hugo and I wouldn't be able to employ you for the shame, I couldn't do that to him. Listen to him, please, he's not lying when he says he will talk!

Frank feeling Adams' grip beginning to loosen: No I'm not, she's right. If you're going to ruin any chance of happiness I might have had with her, then I'm sure as hell going to ruin yours if I need to to save myself from dismissal and gaol!

Rebecca regaining her composure and turning to stare in emptiness at Frank: I don't know if I will let you go or not yet, I need to think. I will see what Mr Jarvis wants to do with you until I have decided. They will believe the word of a Lady over a troublemaker like you in a second, considering you left here without character last year. But if I decide to keep quiet - if you go anywhere near me again, ever, if you even so much as look at me funny, I will do the honourable thing, and don't think I won't, Mr Keneally. Don't for a minute think I won't.

That appears to be enough for Adams, and with a sigh he pulls Frank away from the window and mutters to George to restrain him until Jarvis arrives. Frank smirks and shakes his head as Adams turns to Rebecca for the first time, pulling her firmly into his embrace as she buries her face in his chest, the tears pooling her eyes while she cries softly in relief. He gently kisses the top of her head, stroking her knotted hair, George mumbling a barely audible 'bloody hell!' at this sight, having never seen Adams actually caring for anyone else before, especially in such an open and loving way. How on earth had he managed to get her? And get her up the duff! With a smile, Adams carefully sits her down on her chaise, placing himself next to her, and rocks her gently in his arms, determined to look after her and protect her forever

Once in her office the butler didn't mutter a word as the housekeeper quickly loaded him up with her medical box and all manner of blankets. Staggering slightly under the weight Jarvis called out to Flora to stop. "Dear god woman do we really need all this?" He exclaimed.

"We might if the worse has happened, I know what it's like!" Flora replied cryptically, and for a second Jarvis saw her turn deathly pale and shiver slightly, leaning against the table for support, and in that moment he realised what Flora was talking about. Placing the items down on her table he walked over to her and quickly pulled the trembling housekeeper into a firm embrace, holding her tightly to him and trying to transfer some of his strength to her. "Why didn't you tell me she was pregnant?" Jarvis whispered.

"It wasn't my secret to tell!" Flora mutely replied,

For a second longer Jarvis held her in his arms, before releasing her grudgingly and gathering up everything, as they headed out the door and up the stairs Jarvis kept his eyes locked on Flora, she looked so deathly pale that he was worried any second she might faint, but then he caught a glimpse of the determined fire that now burned in her eyes and was reassured. As they turned the corner to Rebecca's room, Flora paused for a moment, taking a deep breath; moving to stand beside her Walter muttered quietly, "I'll be here, if you need me, I won't leave your side unless you ask me too!"

Turning to him, tears of love springing into her eyes, Flora managed a weak smile, leaning forward she kissed him tenderly on the lips before retrieving her box and blankets from his arms. Then with one final reassuring glance from Walter she pushed open Rebecca's door and disappeared into the room. For a moment the butler went to follow her however at that moment he spotted doors further down the corridor open and several partial dressed aristocrats stumble out of them, still pulling on their clothes as there had been no maids or valets to help them. Taking a deep breath Jarvis tugged at his creased waistcoat, wishing in that instant he had the use of a mirror, blowing the gust of air out through his lips he walked towards them. He held his hands up stalling their comments. "Good Evening Your Lordships, Lady Hamilton-Hussey. I'm sorry for the disturbance, but there really is nothing to worry about!"

"Hmf!" Snorted Franny, pushing her long dark hair out of her face so she could glare at Jarvis down her nose without any interference. "It didn't sound like nothing, in fact it was distinctively my sisters voice!"

"Yes that is quite right madam. Apparently there is a large rat in your sisters room, and she was calling out for assistance, however she had inadvertently locked her door earlier and so some of my men got a little carried away breaking the door down! However everything is now under control, my men have managed to capture the rodent in question, and are dealing with it as we speak, I do not think it will be troubling anyone ever again!"

"Well if that's the case…"Monty began relief obvious on his face, but he was quickly cut off by his somewhat suspicious wife.

"A Rat?" She asked amusement clear on her face. "Is this is of the Scottish variety? Or one of your own Taplow's breed?"

"I am not sure madam, not being an expert on the species, however if you wish it I can find out?" Jarvis replied his face as deadly serious as if she had asked him over the brand of their whiskey.

Shaking her head Franny turned and seizing her bemused husband by the arm proceeded to drag him back to their room; Lord Hugo remained standing silently with the butler until the pair had returned to their room.

"Is she really alright?" Hugo asked insistently.

"I believe so, Mr Adams and Mr Cosmo have the matter in hand, and Mrs Ryan is attending to Lady Rebecca, and I will personally deal with the 'rat' in question in the severest and most expedient method available!"

"Excellent Mr Jarvis, please let me know if you require any further assistance, 'rat catching' can be a difficult business!" Hugo retorted turning and heading back to his room.

Taking a deep breath Jarvis pushed his hands into his pocket, pulling out the cigar and fingering it wistfully, smelling it quickly he turned and shoved it back in his pocket before heading towards Lady Rebecca's room he had a certain rat to deal with.

By the time Flora had gone into Rebecca's room, the blankets in her arms, is becomes quickly apparent to her that she had missed all the action, and that not just Rebecca had had an extremely lucky escape one way or another. She gasps in amazement at the sight of one of the Earl's French pistols lying on the rug by the bed, then her eyes dart from a snide-looking Frank, sitting on the floor with his arms clasped tightly behind his back by George, to a quietly sobbing Lady bundled up in Mr Adams' arms on her chaise. On hearing the swish of skirts walk across the room, Rebecca looks up tearfully and smiles happily on seeing her friend, shivering slightly from the strong breeze sweeping through the still open door.

Placing the blankets on the bed, Flora sighs, immediately jumping into efficient-but-sensitive mode to try to cope with the dreadfulness of the situation. She moves purposefully to the open window and pulls it firmly shut, muttering wisely that they will all catch their deaths like that, everyone watching her in silence as she then shakes out a blanket and stands staring sorrowfully at Rebecca, not sure whether to move in or continue to let Andrew comfort her. But, to her delight, Adams smiles at her and shakes his head, standing up and indicating to her to take over while he storms over to Frank and glares at him in deathly silence, his hateful look more threatening to Frank than any mouthful of abuse he could hurl at him.

Flora wraps the soft blanket around her shoulders, and taking Rebecca's cold, slightly tense hand she forces her to look at her by leaning in and catching her downcast eyes.

Flora her voice so low and quiet: Rebecca, how are you feeling? How is…..I mean, did he do anything? If you want to tell me anything – anything that you don't want to reveal to Andrew, then I'm here for you, but you should see the doctor, and you should tell the police everything, I'm sure Andrew's already told you that though….

Rebecca her voice small: I'm….I'm not going to the police. They're not going to know.

Flora jumping back slightly in surprise, glancing away from her to Andrew: But you must….she must! You can't let him get away with attacking you, if that is indeed what happened, you might never know who he will go for next, I mean, men who needlessly use violence against women – women carrying…..well, vulnerable women, must be dealt with most severely, and…….

Frank laughing bitterly and snorting: Ah, will yer put a bloody sock in it, for God's sake, woman! Listen to yer, all holier than thou, when all the time you've been on yer back getting to know old Jarvis in the most carnal of ways, hardly a paragon of Biblical virtue, are yer, Mrs Ryan?

The confused look on Flora's face is replaced by one of fury and hurt at such a comment – she doesn't care one jot what Frank thinks of her, but how dare he! Adams crunches his fists again, hardly bearing to restrain himself any longer, but then Rebecca suddenly jumps to her feet, glaring with an angry fire in her eyes

Rebecca shaking and pointing at Frank: How dare you speak to my friend like that, as a Lady and therefore your superior I demand you take it back! Remember your position Mr Keneally!

Frank smirking in amusement at his own joke: Which one would that be? You showed me so many of them, Becca!

But before Adams can smack his head in, damning the consequences, Jarvis clears his throat and everyone turns to see him hovering by the door, having obviously heard everything Frank had said to Flora, a heavy look of indignation on his face. Carefully and quietly he closes the door – a little too calmly for Flora's liking as this could only mean that very shortly he is very likely to suddenly explode with rage and fury, with most if not all of it directed straight at Frank. Adams tears himself away from the valet and moves over to Jarvis, ready to discuss what to do with Frank, but as he opens his mouth to speak Jarvis waves him away and scooping up the pistol walks up to Rebecca who had sat herself down again

Jarvis with only a cursory glance at Frank: Lady Rebecca, please accept my apologies for not being here sooner, Mr Forest only managed to find Flora and myself….we were discussing household matters, but I'm here now. I took the liberty of explaining to Lord and Lady Hamilton-Hussey that you were being troubled by a rodent, I hope you don't mind, but thought you might like a bit of privacy.

Rebecca smiling sadly and nodding: Yes, I am very grateful Mr Jarvis, you have been most helpful.

Jarvis briefly making eye-contact with Flora before shifting back to Rebecca: I must ask you, however, M'Lady, what you would like to do now?

Rebecca with a tearful chuckle: All I want to do is get a good night sleep, I'm so exhausted, all this excitement, but I feel that…..that Mr Keneally wasn't himself.

With a confused pause, Jarvis looks over at Adams, and suddenly all became perfectly clear, what Keneally must have said to Adams, the threats to be a tell-tale. No wonder he is still fully conscious and not a bloody pulp of flesh and bones, although he does look as if Adams certainly gave him a good hiding. Frank's cowardice only served to infuriate Jarvis further and inflame his hatred for the valet, but that wouldn't stop him giving Frank a very large piece of his mind once out of the room. He saunters up to Frank, gritting his teeth, towering above him and pushing his jacket back, placing his hand on his hips. Frank looks up from his sitting position, George standing behind him and watching him closely, and smirks at Jarvis. He has the upper hand, and there's not a damn thing the butler can do about it.

Jarvis raising an eyebrow and speaking thoughtfully and slowly: Not himself, eh? So the good Lady is going to be lenient, it seems, Mr Keneally. It's your lucky day….or is it? Hmmm. Well, it looks like Mr Adams here as tried to beat some sense into you, maybe you need to have a little discussion with me too? I think I'll let you sleep it off in the coal cellar tonight, however, I'll tell your master that you are a little, well, indisposed with a particularly bad case of the morning after the night before. He can interpret that how he sees fit! And as for this……

Jarvis closely examines the pistol in his grip then turns his attention back to Frank, snarling in disgust

Jarvis: As for this, I will have to get this back into the safe before the Earl notices its absence. Mr Adams, would you please search the little thief and see if he has stolen anything else from His Lordship? His quarters will also have to be searched.

Adams grunts obligingly, and roughly pushes back Frank onto the floor and rifles through his pockets. Frank huffs resentfully, glaring up from the floor at Rebecca who has hidden her face from him completely, Flora still firmly holding her hand while respectfully waiting silently as Walter asserts his authority over the wayward valet

Frank his voice loaded with cynical sarcasm: Oh, come on, Mr Jarvis, you know how it is, lusting after something you can't have, or should I say shouldn't have, for so long? Oh I know that you can go off and get all your physical pleasures from others, well if you've got a bit of cash to hand over anyway in certain cases, but it's just not the same somehow is it, sir?

Jarvis crouching down and pulling Frank towards him by his collar: The difference between you and me, Keneally, is that I know how to treat women with the respect they deserve!

Frank tutting and widening his eyes in mock realisation: Ahh, is THAT where I went wrong? So all you need is to give them a little respect and they're anybody's? Including yours? Are you sure about that, Mr Jarvis, or did you have to pay her a modest sum too, as isn't that a bit of a habit of yours? Or is she now out of your price range, hmm?

Before Frank can get another word out, Jarvis heaves him up and roughly forces him towards the door as Flora's angry voice reverberates around the room

Flora: Real men don't have to pay for it, Mr Keneally, that's the difference between you and Mr Jarvis!

Jarvis glances over his shoulder at Flora as he drags Frank from the room and catches her eye, but she can't only just see a look of love but also something else, regret perhaps, a tinge of wistfulness, a silent 'sorry' for something she can't fathom. Turning back to Rebecca once they had left after carefully collecting up the broken glass, Flora draws her friend into a hug, telling her that she should consider rethinking talking to the police, before Adams interrupts and stands protectively behind his lover

Adams clearing his throat, causing Flora to glance up at him: Yes, thank you, Mrs Ryan. You have been most helpful, but I would appreciate some time with Lady Rebecca, if that is alright with you.

Flora momentarily put-out before forcing out a reassuring smile at Rebecca: Of course, of course, how insensitive of me. If you need anything, my dear, just let me know, although I am sure Andrew will fetch you anything you need.

Rebecca quickly taking Flora gently by the arm: Thank you so much, Flora, you have been a great comfort. Everything is alright with the baby I think, he didn't manage to do anything and I'm not in any pain, I just need rest and Andrew with me. Please don't bother Lizzie, she doesn't need to know about this.

Flora nods and with another smile exits the room, leaving Adams to lead Rebecca over to the bed where they lay back, Adams pulling her next to him so her head lays gently on his chest. Without a word, he runs his fingers along her bare arms, noticing the bruising and protectively threading his hands around her back. Rebecca looks up lovingly at him and kisses him softly on the lips, then nuzzles her nose into his neck to help her keep warm and feel safe. Sighing she snuggles up to him further before quickly falling fast asleep, Adams still wide-awake and thinking hard about the future they still have failed to discuss. The incident with Frank has made him more determined than ever to do what is right for all three of them, which in his mind is together forever, but after trying desperately to think of a plan and failing he feels himself drift off, the woman he loves curled up blissfully in his arms.

Whilst upstairs everyone was heading to bed, in the maid's room one of the girls was staring at the ceiling all her attempts to lull herself to sleep had proved futile; so far she was on five hundred and sixty three sheep and she was no sleepier now than she had been an hour or so ago, but now she had a craving for lamb and mint sauce. Gripping her covers Lizzie threw them back, swinging her legs out of bed she grasped the edge of her shawl and wrapped it securely round her shoulders before carefully scurrying out the door. She knew why she couldn't sleep, there had been something going on tonight, something that concerned her father and Lady Rebecca, but as usual no one bothered to inform her about it. Well if no one saw fit to tell her then she was just going to have to go find out for herself, but not from her father he would never give her a straight answer; since his heart attack he hadn't so much as mentioned Rebecca at all, even though he had to know she knew! No if she wanted the truth then she was going to have to get it from a certain footman, even if she had to beat it out of him!

Meanwhile downstairs the footman in question was drowning his sorrows as he had been for some time, and it caused him a small smile of satisfaction knowing that the exquisite brandy he was downing by the swigful was one Jarvis had been saving for a special occasion. Well it wouldn't matter by the time the butler discovered it was missing he'd be long gone, and besides Will suspected Jarvis would have a few more things on his mind than a bottle of spirits once he was through with him. Glancing down at the table, he squinted slightly at the letter in front of him, taking one more swig form the bottle Will picked up his abandoned pen and through his drunken haze signed his name to the letter with a evil flourish. That'll teach her when Jarvis reads this letter, then perhaps Flora will understands what it feels like to have your heart  
ripped out and stamped on.

Getting unsteadily to his feet Will stuffed the letter into the waiting envelope, then grabbing the half empty bottle he headed off to the butler's office to deposit his present where the butler couldn't fail to find it first thing tomorrow by which time Will would be off and running; or more like crawling, he mentally corrected himself as he fell sideways into the piano causing it to scream out discordantly. He'd show that Flora Ryan yet, that he was not some little toy she could pick up and put down whenever she chose, and if he couldn't have her then he going to make damn sure that bd Jarvis didn't get to live happily ever after with her either!

Scampering down the stairs Lizzie shivered in the cold drafty air, Will hadn't been in his room although she had only glanced round the door, it was obvious his bed hadn't been slept in and so he hadn't just popped off to the bathroom. So that had left only one possibility he still hadn't been to bed yet, heading down the main corridor she was just about to turn towards the servants hall when she heard the screech from the piano and hurried her steps. It was at this point that she caught her first glimpse of Will; he was staggering away from the hall seemingly heading towards the kitchens,  
however as she dashed after him it became obvious he was heading towards the senior servants offices. Slightly out of breath she finally caught up with him at the butler office; whispering in the silence, even her quiet voice carried down the corridor, and so she quickly entered Jarvis's domain shutting the door behind her. However Will hadn't shifted at her voice he seemed lost in his own thoughts and so jumped out of his skin when the paranoid maid shook his arm.

"Jesus Lizzie you trying to give me a heart attack?" He spluttered staggering slightly unable to keep his balance and so landing hard in Jarvis chair.

"I've no time for your nonsense William Forest!" Liz snorted. "I'm only here for one reason, and it's not what you think!" She added when she saw Will's face twist into a smirk. "Not all women fall for your charms you know!"

However at this comment she saw Will's face darken dangerously and his fist close tightly over the letter it enclosed. "What's happened?" She asked tentatively.

"What upstairs? That's the only reason why you're here isn't it? Come to pump me for information, not see how I am!" Will snapped, before Liz could respond. "Well I'll put you out of your misery and then perhaps you'll leave me be…Frank was trying it on with Lady Rebecca, your dad and George got to play the heroes and save the fair maiden, whereas yours truly was sent to fetch the reinforcements!"

"Mrs Ryan and Mr Jarvis?" Lizzie asked tentatively.

"Humph!" Will added scowling.

"Grace tried to warn you…" Liz began, but Will cut her off.

"Well she didn't try hard enough now did she!" Will snapped.

"Was she alright, what did they do with Frank?" Liz asked.

"Oh she's fine, and as for old Frank, Mr Jarvis has him kicking his heels in the coal cellar, some comment about that was the most appropriate place for caging rodents!" He replied trailing off as he gazed into the fire.

For a moment they sat in silent, Will waiting for the maid to leave so he could get on with his mission; Liz unwilling to leave him was worried about what he would do once she had left. Finally a frustrated Will broke the stalemate. "Look you got what you wanted why don't you go, just go and leave me!"

"Why what are you up to Will, I mean drinking sprits in Mr Jarvis's office, are you looking for the sack?" She retorted.

"Oh he'd love that!" Will huffed. "Well he's not going to get the satisfaction, no I'll have the last laugh in this affair, this letter will ensure that!" Will added, slamming it down on the table.

For a second Lizzie stood stunned, a part of her was yelling at her to simply turn and leave him to his course of self-destruction, but there was another side of her that made her stay put. "What's in the letter Will?" She asked softly.

"Oh a few home truths!" Will replied smugly, taking another sip from the brandy of bottle.

"Such as?"

But Will didn't answer he continued to stare into the fire ignoring her question, exasperated Liz leapt forward and grabbed the letter from the table, and managed to read the first few lines her eyes widening in shock, before Will snatched it back. "Leave it be Lizzie, it's none of your business, it's between me and them!"

"How could you?" Liz exclaimed. "You and her, behind Mr Jarvis's back?"

"It wasn't like that!" Will replied. "They'd broken up and it just happened, we didn't plan it…And afterwards she didn't want to know she just discarded me like it…like I meant nothing!"

"So is this your idea of revenge?" Lizzie retorted. "You think this letter will be your way of paying her back for hurting you?"

"Well why not?" Will shouted back. "She used me, she took my feelings for granted and used me despite them!"

"Oh and you're so pure and innocent!" Lizzie added. "You've never pretended to feel more for a girl than you did in order to get what you want? Never told someone you loved them and not meant it?"

At this Will became strangely silent, his thoughts fleeing back to his treatment of a certain Esther Spicer, for once Liz had a point he had behaved the same way himself, but surely this was different after all it was expected for a man to play the field but not a woman.

"Not so cocky now are we Forest?" Liz retorted.

"So what? Why should I let them get away with it Scot free?" Will asked pleadingly.

"Because it's the right thing to do! You have the chance to be the better man, let her go. It was never going to work Will even you knew that! Why should you loose everything you've worked for, you'd have to leave without a character and you know you'd never get another position?"

Sighing Will slung himself back down into the chair passing the letter between his hands, his vision blurring as unbidden tears sprang to his eyes. "But I really do love her Liz, to have to see them together everyday, I don't know if I can stand it?"

"If you love her then do the right thing Will, burn that and let her get on with her life, be happy that she's happy, even if it is with Jarvis and not you." Liz replied softly, resting a hand gently on Will's arm.

Slowly Will got to his feet, moving over to the fireplace his gaze locked with Lizzie's and she smiled at him reassuringly as he took a deep breath dropping the letter into the fire, both of their eyes dropping as the paper was slowly consumed by the flames. When it had shrivelled to ash Liz walked over to Will, threading her arm through his she managed to drag him towards the door, leaving the letter and his relationship with Flora Ryan firmly behind him.


End file.
